Mask'charade
by chynnadoll36
Summary: Life is not always what it seems. Tired of feeling neglected in her marriage, Bella decides on a night out with colleagues. She meets a mysterious and gorgeous stranger and enters into a secret life of debauched pleasure. What happens when the stranger turns up in the place she least expects? AH Bella&Edward story Rated M for mature themes (HEA, more on this inside.)
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to the original author. Mask'Charade's plot line belong to Chynnadoll._**

**_A/N: What can I say except I had a concept enter my head, and I had to get it down on paper. I hope you'll enjoy this story._**

**_Mask'Charade_**

**_Prologue_**

I stare into the mirror, gently massaging my now shortened tresses. I briefly recall the day I walked into the hair salon and told my hairdresser that I wanted something more edgy and hot. She was as shocked to hear me say the words, as I was to be saying them.

But _he_ had a way of subtly planting things into my mind; things that I wasn't used to saying and most certainly was not used to doing.

_You have the most beautiful, baby-soft hair, Isabella._

I can still hear his soft grunts in my ear, his warm breath caressing my cheek as he winds my hair around his wrist. I shudder deliciously at the memory of him taking me deliberately, yet savagely from behind.

_You should cut it. Your neck and back are exquisite; they should always be visible for everyone to admire._

I instinctively arch my neck to the side; my hand absentmindedly caresses my neck as I remember his touch, as I hear his voice. He used words like _perfection,, exquisite _as he made love to me, when he _fucked_ me; when he'd take me to 'another level', as he'd put it.

Those words have embedded themselves in my head, like he'd taken a branding iron to my brain. He had a way of doing that without even trying.

"Bella, what the hell?" He appears again, snapping me out of my reverie.

"I'm coming," I appease him and he turns without another word.

Guests are mingling, and I'm fluttering around like the perfect hostess, working hard to make this important night perfect for my husband. I know that he's counting on landing an important deal tonight.

"Bella, Sweetheart, over here." James beckons. He's at the center of a group of people.

He wraps his arm possessively around my waist as soon as I reach him, and starts introducing me to the circle of people I've yet to meet.

"Edward, I want you to meet my beautiful wife, Isabella."

I look up into hypnotic green eyes, and my legs feel as if they're about to collapse from under me. The oxygen leaves my body as I stare at him, dumbfounded.

He takes my hand without a spark of recognition in his eyes, no acknowledgement of me whatsoever in his expression.

* * *

**_End note: This is a B&E story. FoolForEdward, my beta and now co-author, and I have a number of joint projects, which we have no intention of neglecting. We are working on those constantly. In addition, we each have our own projects that we work on co-currently. Mask'Charade is my project and will be posted under my profile Chynnadoll._**


	2. Chapter 1 The Mask

_**Disclaime: All Twilight related material is the property of its original author. Mask'charade is a work of fiction brought to you by Chynnadoll.**_

_**A/N: Thanks to all who gave Mask a go. There were a lot of you who put me on author alert for this and I'm truly grateful. For the newbies, welcome; to the regulars, welcome back my lovelies. To knock out a few questions, yes this is a E&B story (all the way)and yes there will be an HEA. Yes, there will be angst and yes I will probably make you tear up a bit. It's just a warning for those who don't enjoy an angst filled story. I don't want to give away any of the plot, but feel free to ask any questions and I will provide answers the best I can. Okay, on to chapter 1(Btw, Rosanna is Rose, just wanted to switch it up a bit. I'll be doing that throughout) FoolforEdward edits beautifully as always. You inspire me, dear lady.**_

**Chapter 1, The Mask**

**BPOV**

It's an unseasonably warm night in mid-October; the humidity in the air fluffs up my hair and leaves a thin sheen of sweat across my face. My nerves are a jumbled mess as I stand in the parking lot.

I look up at the flashing neon sign and wonder what I've gotten myself into.

I hope that my colleagues, who are already inside, aren't waiting for me. It's going to take me at least another ten minutes to prepare myself to enter.

_Get it together girl. It's just a night out. What can possibly go wrong?_

The silent pep talk does nothing to stop the nervousness from coursing through my entire body. I rub my sweaty palms along the length of my skirt, remove my thin leather jacket, and debate how I should carry it, draped across my arm or clenched in my hand? I must look like a dithering idiot to other patrons outside the club.

I shouldn't be here, but I'm sick of the same old routine. I go to work, come home to an empty house; and a frigid bed. After three years of marriage, James seems to always be preoccupied with his business. Work appears to have become his priority, so instead of going home and curling up with the cat yet again, I've decided on a night out with the girls.

_God, why is it so hot?_

I pull my hair back into a ponytail and take a deep breath, before I approach the red velvet rope. There's a mammoth-sized man barring the entrance. My eyes lock with his as I slowly approach.

"ID, please." He says robotically, sounding annoyed. Makes sense, given that he probably asks this question numerous times each night.

I dig into my purse and hand him my driver's license, which I dread anyone looking at. He pulls out a keychain-sized flashlight and looks over my credentials. He raises his eyes to mine and stares at me briefly before one corner of his mouth turns up into a smirk.

"You're thirty-two." He states, and I have to force myself not to slap his face, or at the very least give him a tongue-lashing.

He notices my state of annoyance and holds up a hand in surrender, handing my license back with the other.

"Enjoy your evening, Miss." He says with a small chuckle as he steps aside to let me pass through the velvet rope.

I swallow hard as I enter. This place, with its dim, red lighting and sensual music, is not what I expected when Tanya invited me to join her and a group of others for a drink after work.

I glance around the room at the provocatively dancing couples, not caring that they're in clear view of watching people. They seem liberated in a sense.

The swirling lights blind me with each passing phase across my face. I squint through the glare, trying to see through the crowd; my eyes finally settle on Tanya, Rosanna, Alice and three women I don't know that well. I clear my throat and walk over to join them.

"Bella, you made it. I thought I was going to have to drag you out of the house by your hair." Her condescending cackle rips through me like a blade.

_What a bitch!_

"Had I known we'd be hanging out in a den of hedonism, you would've had to do just that, Tanya; what _is _this place?" I lower my voice to a near-whisper, as if anyone could hear with the music at this level.

"Hedonism?" She chuckles lightly. "You're so funny, Bella. I bet it took you at least twenty minutes to convince yourself just to enter the place."

"Ignore her." Alice jumps to my defense as she always does. At times, I feel like a timid teenager, afraid to stand up for myself when it comes to her.

I bite my lip to keep from responding to Tanya's accurate assumption. I wouldn't consider her or Rosanna a friend. They're just work associates, and I don't think they care for me too much. They've aligned themselves with me because of my wealth, which I came by through my marriage.

They're snobbish, single socialites who'd do anything to snag a wealthy husband. I'm sure they've only taken the time to get to know me to find out how James and I came to be; either that, or they've figured that I could set them up with friends or colleagues of his. They're always working an angle.

A waiter, dressed in a gladiator costume, comes over. He's wearing a mask, but his blue eyes shine vibrantly through the apertures. His body is toned, muscular and oiled. I shift nervously in my seat as I try not to stare at his rippling chest.

_Damn!_

I glance over to the girls who are marveling at him and vocalizing my thoughts.

He introduces himself as Jasper and takes our drinks order. I forgo the alcohol and settle for a club soda with lime. My choice of drink elicits an eye-roll from the entire table, but I couldn't care less. I have to be at work early in preparation for an important client, and I refuse to go in with a hangover. More importantly, James would flip his lid if he found out I'd been drinking, let alone in a place like this.

"Okay, so that's three vodka on the rocks, one dry martini and a club soda…with lime." He smiles at me, and suddenly I feel like the Debbie Downer in the group.

"A club soda, really, Bella?" Tanya scoffs, and I shrug my dismissal of her ridicule.

"Shall I bring your drinks back to your table, or will you ladies be headed up to the masquerade room?"

"Masquerade Room!" They all chant in unison and stand as they, gather their purses and jackets.

I look around in confusion, but follow suit. We make our way through the crowd and up the spiral staircase located in the center of the room.

"Alice, what's the _Masquerade Room_?" I whisper as we reach the landing.

"You'll see." She smiles wickedly and winks.

For some reason, her response and the atmosphere does nothing to reassure me. We reach a door and are greeted by another man, also masked and wearing a gladiator costume. He's much taller and even more muscular. His extremely white teeth illuminate his smile as he greets us.

"Welcome to Club Masquerade ladies. The rules are, no one enters without a disguise and everything that happens here…well, you all get the idea." He chuckles somewhat darkly. "My name's Demetri, and I'll be one of your hosts for the evening."

He hands each of us a decorative mask and stamps the back of our hands as we pass through. I swallow the ever-present lump in my throat and silently wish that Jasper would get here with that club soda already.

Tanya and Rosanna enter without hesitation, leaving Alice and me at the door. I scan the room, trying to gauge what type of situation I've been roped into. I'm surprised to see a spatter of normal, everyday people like myself inside. They look to be regular businessmen having drinks at the bar, trying to unwind and have a normal conversation with a woman. I look to the back of the club and see a table full of men, laughing boisterously as if they're engaging in last night's sports discussion. Maybe it's just the normal happy hour spot, I think.

Alice moves to enter, and I follow.

"Ah, ah, ah, beautiful. You have to play by the rules." Demetri laughs and removes the mask that I'd completely forgotten I was holding from my hands.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I totally forgot, is this necessary?"

"It's highly necessary. Downstairs you're free to do whatever you want, up here, there are certain rules." He moves behind me and ties the mask over my eyes. The air, as he exhales, tickles the side of my neck.

"There, now you're all set." He returns to his position in front of me and smiles broadly, showing off his perfect teeth. "I hope you'll enjoy the evening."

I smile weakly, and he disappears into the crowd of mingling couples.

Alice and the other girls are subtly dancing with a small crowd, while Tanya and Rosanna seem to have made friends of the male persuasion. I instantly realize that I'm in the wrong place. A married woman shouldn't be in a place like this.

With my mind finally made up, I turn to leave, but someone entering stops me.

"You can't be leaving already?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I noticed you just arrive, so you can't be leaving until I have the chance to get to know you. Can I buy you a drink?"

"Um…I…" I'm stumped by the man standing in front of me. I hadn't expected to be approached by anyone. My thumb instinctively rubs across the diamond of my wedding ring as I struggle to answer.

"She's spoken for. Come on, Bella."

To my relief, Alice comes to the rescue, whisking me off into the crowd of dancing patrons.

"Come on Bella, let loose!" She yells over the music, and I shake my head in protest.

"I'm married, Alice. I can't. I think I'm going to just have a seat at the bar and wait for my drink. You have fun, though."

"Okay!"

I back away and watch as she moves to the music. She's always struck me as a free spirit. Alice knows how to have fun and is fun to be around. Unlike Rosanna and Tanya, she hasn't simply befriended me because of wealth. I haven't known either of them for long; I met them all when I was hired to work at the advertising agency about a year ago. Alice was the more approachable one. I feel like I can trust her, and she's not as shallow as Tanya and Rosanna, although I try and keep an open mind and treat them all equally.

I take a seat on one of the empty barstools, my eyes still transfixed on the dance floor as I watch the couples seductively swaying to the beat. Rosanna and Tanya are practically sandwiched between two guys, whose strong hands roam up and down their legs and touch them in the most intimate places. I look on in astonishment.

They seem to be enjoying themselves; I can't understand how they can allow strange men to publicly paw them. In part, I feel disgusted by this place, but I don't want to cause a commotion by telling them I want to leave, so I play the waiting game.

_This can't possibly last that long. After all, we do have to work tomorrow._

Just then Jasper enters, carrying a tray of drinks. He smiles as he reaches me and hands me a glass.

"One club soda with lime."

"Oh, thank you." I smile at him graciously and take a sip from the glass. He places the rest of the drinks on the bar and stands beside me, looking out over the dance floor.

"So, how come you're not out there?"

"Oh…um…two left feet. I have horrible rhythm too." I laugh, pointing at the floor.

"I doubt that, besides you don't have to do much with your feet, it's all in the way you move your hips." He winks and nods in the direction of a couple gyrating as if they're the only two people in the club. "I could teach you."

My eyes widen, and I nearly choke on my club soda. "Uh, no thank you. I'll sit this one out."

He seems amused at my reluctance. "Some other time, maybe?"

He smiles, but doesn't wait for a response, and I for one am glad, not trusting what would come out of my mouth at the moment.

_God, how much longer will we be here?_

I finish my club soda and place the empty glass on the bar. My eyes settle on the drinks he'd left for my friends, and I grab one of the vodkas. I figure one drink won't hurt, while I'm waiting for them. I take a few sips, nursing it as the night drags by.

A few songs later, and I've polished off another Vodka on the Rocks. I realize that I must be feeling more relaxed, because I'm swaying to the music. Alice is chatting it up with Jasper, and Rosanna and Tanya seem to have disappeared.

A few couples are still dancing, but for the most part, everyone has either fallen into deep conversation or left the club entirely. I assume that we'll also be leaving soon.

"I like the way you move." A smooth, honey-like voice melts into my ear. I spin around and look up into a pair of magnetic green eyes. He towers over me in a crisp, white shirt with the first two buttons undone and a pair of charcoal grey slacks.

My mouth opens and closes repeatedly, trying to find the proper response. He simply smiles at my bafflement. "I…I wasn't aware that I was moving that much."

"Oh, you weren't, but it's not about how much. Have you ever heard the phrase 'less is more?'

His words may be tactful, but the sexual innuendo is clear.

"I'm acquainted with the phrase, and thank you." I try and divert my eyes, but it's a feeble attempt. Those eyes are the most striking orbs I've ever seen; I don't think I've ever witnessed a color quite like theirs before. He breaks contact first as his gaze travels the length of my body. It's only then that I notice his taller than six-foot frame and perfectly disheveled auburn-colored hair. It's obvious that he has an expert and probably very expensive hairdresser

"So, is someone sitting here or…"

"Um…no…"

I watch him take the seat next to me and motion to the barmaid. She immediately pours him a glass of clear liquid.

"Can I refresh your drink?" he nods at the empty glasses in front of me, and I'm suddenly mortified at the smug smirk on his face.

"I'm good, thank you." I take furtive glances at him as he swallows the contents in his glass. As I regretfully wish that I could see the rest of his face hidden behind his mask, it dawns on me that I'm still wearing mine as well.

A slow, seductive song fills the room, and all the lights dim to a red tone. I instantly look behind me, and his eyes are on mine once more.

"Is this your first time here?"

My eyes focus on his full lips as he speaks.

"Um, yes." I look down at the floor, not wanting to be rude for staring.

"Would you like to dance?"

My eyes snap back to his, those magnetic green orbs nearly mesmerize me into doing something I know would be inappropriate for a married woman.

"I'm sorry…I–" I feel my thumb brush over my wedding ring once more, and the lump in my throat resurfaces. His eyes follow the reflection of my diamond.

"You're married." But he doesn't make a move to leave like I assume anyone would after that revelation. Our eyes stay locked until Alice's voice pulls us both from our reverie.

"Bella, are you ready to go? It's getting late and work beckons us early tomorrow morning."

"Oh, yes…I'm ready." I look back at the man standing in front of me. He still hasn't budged.

I follow Alice, and we meet up with Tanya and the rest. I remove the mask as I reach the exit, and I turn around to see him still sitting at the bar, watching me.

.

.

.

The house is still dark, making it obvious that James isn't home from work. Of course he isn't. Late nights in the office play a commanding role in my marriage, it has since day one. I try to be supportive in all things he does, because I feel it's what marriage is about, fifty-fifty, give and take. Mostly, I give and he takes.

I check my phone to see whether he's left any messages, but there are none. Frustrated, I enter through the kitchen door. Cookie, my three-year old, Chocolate Point Himalayan, instantly greets me. She was a gift from my husband after an impromptu, extended business trip, which I wasn't exactly happy about.

"How are you my beauty?" I lift her into my arms after she meows and curls around my ankles.

I get myself a bottle of water from the fridge and pour some into a dish for her. I stroke her soft coat as she laps up the water. I hear the distinctive sound of the front door alarm being deactivated, and I make my way into the living room.

"Another late night at the office?"

He turns with a startled expression.

"Bella, babe, I thought you'd be in bed already." He greets me with a kiss. "It's late, why are you still in your work clothes?" He briefly studies my attire.

"I… just got in a few minutes ago."

He frowns, releasing me from his embrace and waits for me to elaborate.

"I went for a bite to eat with some co-workers after work. We got talking and lost track of time, before we realized, it was late. You know how it is when women start chatting." I laugh and glance down at the back of my hand, hoping he doesn't see the stamp from the club. Thankfully, it's no longer visible.

"Woman chat, sounds like a fun evening." He flashes a wide smile. "What was the conversation about, work…male bashing…" He undoes the top three buttons on my blouse and gently kisses my exposed skin.

"What are you doing?" I giggle as he pulls me over to the sofa to straddle his waist.

"Did you talk about sex?" He continues unbuttoning my blouse, until I sit before him in just my satin bra.

"I don't talk about those things with my co-workers, James."

"Liar, I know what women talk about during those 'get togethers', but I'll let you keep your little secrets. In the meantime, why don't we _do_ what you don't want to talk about?"

"Which is?"

He gazes at me with lustful eyes as he unhooks the clasp in front of my bra with a flick of his wrist.

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.

.

The next morning, I sit at my desk, idly tapping away at my computer. Hypnotic, green eyes have been in the forefront of my thoughts all morning, and oddly enough, I can't seem to rid myself of that compelling stare.

"So, did you enjoy the club last night, Bella?"

Tanya interrupts my daydreaming.

"You must be thinking about that hot guy I saw you talking to last night; naughty Bella," she tuts menacingly.

"What, no…you're speculating, as usual, Tanya. There was no hot guy, and I'm a married woman." I begin shuffling, files on my desk, emphasizing the fact that she's intruded on my time while I'm busy.

"Don't bother denying it. I saw you talking with him; tall, nice physique; looks to be wealthy. He had a really nice ass too. Tell me, what's your secret?" She whispers and perches herself on the edge of my desk, as if expecting for me to respond to that nonsense.

"I'm married, Tanya." I say more forcefully as I push away from the desk and slot the files in their appropriate place.

"When you get a chance, I'd really like to see the copy and layouts for the latest Volturi print campaign. Jill and I would like to go through them as soon as possible. Gianna Volturi will be flying in this weekend, and I want to ensure that our recommendations meet their brief."

"Sure, sure." She deadpans. "All business, that's a nice way to avoid my observations."

'What observations are those, Tanya?" I downplay my huff of annoyance with a smile.

"Well, for one, the fact that you always answer a question with '_I'm married', _and the fact that you only ever refer to it as just_ 'married.'_ You never say '_I'm happily married_.' Also, your flat out denial of that guy you were talking to last night. Any fool with a pulse could see he was hot."

"He was wearing a mask, Tanya."

"And? I mean, you're kidding me, right? He could've been wearing a burlap sack along with that mask, and he'd still ooze sexiness."

"Really, I wasn't paying attention." I add nonchalantly, knowing full well that's a crock. "Besides, I'm–"

"You're _married_. I get it." She mocks.

"You know, Tanya, you could always seek him out. You're gorgeous and single, and I'm sure he frequents that place; he just strikes me as the type. Why don't you give it a shot?"

"Maybe I will." She deliberately saunters across my office, her statement laced with an obvious threat. "A man like that shouldn't go to waste."

My expression morphs into one of disgust, I'm sure, when she finally exits. Of course she would seek him out, being the skank that she is, and of course I would suggest it just to get her off my back. But those eyes, still ever present in my head, are beckoning me, and I can't for the life of me understand why.

* * *

_**End Note: I will update this story bi-weekly. See you in 2.**_


	3. Chapter 3, Eyes Without a Face

_**Mask'charade Chapter 2, Eyes Without a Face**_

_**Disclaimer: All Twilight related material is the property of the original author. Mask'charade's plotline and characters belong to Chynnadoll.**_

_**A/N: I'm glad you all are intrigued by this story. For that reason, I love to entertain. As always thanks to FoolforEdward for editing.**_

_**BPOV**_

I'm wakened by the sound of chirping birds and radiant sunlight, the perfect incentive to get out and enjoy the day. It's the start of the weekend, and my mind is instantly flooded with all the enjoyable ways my husband and I can spend it.

I roll to his empty side of the bed. James has risen rather early for a Saturday, and I can't help but wonder just how long I've been alone in this bed.

I climb out of bed and reach for my robe, needing to use the bathroom and brush my teeth. He emerges, buttoning his shirt and adjusting his tie.

"Good morning, babe." He kisses my forehead as he passes me and sits on the bed to slip on his shoes.

"You're up early." I try to hide my disappointment.

"Yeah, I have to go into the office. I'm meeting with that important client this morning. I hope to make enough of an impression on him, so that he buys into my proposal."

"James, it's Saturday. This guy works on Saturday?"

"So it seems. I've heard he's anal to a fault; all business, all of the time."

I slink down beside him, while he continues getting ready to leave.

"It's a beautiful day, I was really hoping that we could enjoy it together, James; do something fun." I mumble.

"Bella baby, please, don't do this right now. You know how important this is to me."

"Right." I sigh, rising from the bed and walking over to gaze out of the window. I no longer have the strength or patience to argue with him about this. After months of trying to get him to understand, it's become futile. Surprisingly, he actually takes the time to notice that I'm bothered by the way he continues to put our marriage on the back-burner.

"Listen, you make any plans your heart desires, and I'll be there as soon as my meeting is over. I promise." He wraps his arms around my waist and kisses my temple in a feeble attempt to comfort me. I'd really hoped that he'd jump at the chance to do something spontaneous, fun; actually plan something for _us _this time. But as always it's up to me.

"Alright." I concede, knowing that it's the best he's going to offer. I turn in his arms, smile and forge a happy exterior. "I'll plan something."

"Good." He gives my ass an affectionate tap before he leaves for the office.

With my plans dashed, at least for now, I have nothing but free time on my hands.

After tidying up the house and playing with the cat, I give my hairstylist, Angel a call in the hope that she can squeeze me in at such short notice. She checks her schedule and tells me there's a cancellation and to be there in an hour.

I slip on some comfortable lounge-wear and throw my hair up into a bun. I look in the mirror and shake my head at my reflection, knowing full well that I'd just been to the hairdresser a week ago. This is simply a way for me to kill some time, and to get my mind off my marital woes.

I make my way to the kitchen, freshening Cookie's water dish and leaving her a few treats while I'm gone.

.

.

.

"Goodness, your hair has grown at least three inches since the last time you've been here. Wasn't that last week?" Her voice registers disbelief as she combs her fingers through my hair.

"I know. I really don't know what to do with it, but James loves it long. In fact, he's threatened to end the marriage if I cut it." I laugh lightly, recalling our playful conversation one morning in bed after making love.

"Men." She scoffs in her faint Spanish accent. "Other than his ridiculous request about your hair, how are things going between you two?"

"Fine, I guess." I sigh. "He's still trying to land that one big contract for his software business. Once that happens, I expect things will begin to go a little smoother for us."

"Mmhm." With a flick of her wrists she fans out a satin smock and drapes it around my shoulders. "Have you talked anymore about opening your own restaurant?"

I simply shake my head, sadly. She's the only person besides Alice that I've told about my dreams of opening my own restaurant. It's something I've been passionate about since watching my mom and my nonna in the kitchen when I was a kid.

My nonna was a sweet, wise, Italian woman, who could barely speak a word of English. Standing at only four feet tall, she was a tiny ball of fire, who kept my entire family on their toes. I miss her terribly.

I remember how the three of us used to sing in Italian while rolling out dough for bread or cookies. They would laugh as I made fingerprints in the dough, saying I was making my own special cookies and selling them for a nickel at my summer camp's bake sale. Shocking enough, it went off without a hitch. I made them for the bake sale every summer. Since then, my grandmother made it her life's mission to show me everything she knew about cooking and baking, insisting that I should open my own restaurant when I grew up.

I promised her as she drew her last breath that I'd pursue that dream to the fullest. James however, suggested that I put my dream on hold until after he got his software company up and running. He's always wanted to have his own company.

He's highly intelligent and sought after in the IT field. I knew he'd never be satisfied with just working for other people in big corporations. He needed to be the man in charge, not answering to anyone. He needed to call all the shots. Financially, he's well off, a trust fund baby, inheriting a small fortune from his grandparents when they passed away. He used a chunk of the money to fund his company, Devex, an abbreviation of his last name and tribute to his grandparents.

It's been about two years since he started Devex, and business hasn't looked promising. Three major players have dominated the market for software developers.

Devex is the new kid on the block, so to speak. An acquisition of a major account would make him a player in the big league. James has been obsessed with landing Cullen Industries as a client, ever since he'd heard that the President of the company is in the market for a new software company. With such a blue-chip client to its name, Devex would gain the acknowledgement that it needs to entice other large clients.

Angel eyes me skeptically, as she begins to lather up my hair, and I know without a doubt what she's trying to convey with her look.

"Don't look at me like that. Just make me beautiful for my husband, por favor? We have plans for the evening." I smile cheekily, and she throws her head back in laughter.

"Ay, I see someone has been brushing up on her Spanish?"

"Si." My smile broadens as I shut my eyes, getting comfortable while she works her magic.

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.

After leaving the salon, I head over to pick up some things from the grocers for dinner. I call James, letting him know that I'd be preparing a romantic dinner and to not be late. He promises again that he'll be home in time for our night together, and I hurry home to get started.

I make all his favorites, veal piccata, balsamic bruschetta and even tiramisu for dessert. Yes, we're already married, but nonna instilled in me that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, even after marriage. Nonna always knew best.

After setting the dessert to chill in the fridge, I dart upstairs to shower and slip into this little black number I'd yet to cut the tags off of. I fluff out my Brazilian blown out tresses and add a pop of red color to my lips. What the hell, I might as well go with the smoky eye too. I carefully examine my appearance, and satisfied with the way I look, I do one last half-turn in the mirror before returning to the dining area.

I set the table with our finest chinaware; a wedding gift. I've selected a bottle of vintage white wine that complements the entire meal I prepared. And for a final touch, the candles have been lit, creating the perfect atmosphere.

I stand back and admire, contentedly and anxiously anticipating James' arrival at any moment.

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.

It's nine-thirty, and I sit at the dining room table, agitatedly swinging my crossed leg, while sipping my third glass of wine. I'm pissed off, for lack of a better word. At this point in my marriage, I don't know why I waste the energy to even get upset. He always does this. With no regard for me, or my feelings; everything he wants always takes priority.

I hastily blow out the candles and stare at the meal I slaved over for him. The veal now cold, and the tiramisu, well, let's just say my Nonna would probably scrunch up her face and whack me on the behind with a wooden spoon.

_Damn him!_

I refuse to call him. Instead, I check my phone to see if he's attempted to contact me. He hasn't. I toss my phone onto the couch and kick off my heels as I wander over to the entertainment system and crank the volume a little louder than I normally would. The sultry sounds of Etta James flow through the house, and I hum along to _I'd Rather Go Blind._ Closing my eyes, I begin to sway, getting lost in the rhythm.

_"__Revealed these tears that are on my face_

_Whoo. And baby, and baby, baby, I'd rather be blind, boy_

_Than to see you walk away, walk away from me, yea"_

Piercing green eyes and a smooth velvet voice intrudes my tipsy dance solo.

_I like the way you move._

It's as if he's standing behind me, watching once again. I open my eyes as I realize I'm thinking of him _again._ I place a hand to my forehead, shaking it slightly, trying to rid myself of these overwhelming thoughts. I shouldn't have gone to that club, and more so, I shouldn't be thinking about another man. I rationalize that it must be my anger with James that's led to me to have these unconscious flashes, either that, or the wine is beginning to take its toll.

I decide not to take another drink, fearing what I might mentally conjure up next. I start to clear the table when I hear the front door slam.

"Bella, what hell? The neighbors are going to have the police sent over here!" He instantly heads over, turning the volume down considerably before approaching me.

"Why in the hell do you have the music so loud?"

Still upset with him, I think of my best smart-assed answer. I can hardly believe he would ask such a dumb question.

"I felt like listening to a little Etta James, nothing wrong with that." I say nonchalantly and make my way into the kitchen, carrying the spoilt dinner. He follows me.

"Um, I like her music too, but at a sensible level, Bella."

I slam the plates on the counter and whirl around.

"You want to talk about sensible? Sensible, would be exercising some consideration when it comes to your wife; call or better yet, keep your promise!"

He looks taken aback by my outburst, but I don't care. I'm tired of being the one who just accepts and supports. My wants and needs should be considered as well.

"What…what are you talking about, Bella, I'm here!"

"You're joking, right?" I laugh mockingly. "It's ten o'clock! And you didn't even think to call, I cannot…you know what…it doesn't matter." I scrape the veal into Cookie's dish, and she come running, polishing it off.

"What the hell are you doing, was that my dinner?" His voice raises an octave in disbelief.

"Yes, it was, and _this_ is my dinner that I'll be enjoying in _our_ bed _alone_. Suddenly, I feel famished." I hold the plate up to his face and give him a sour look before I storm off to bed, hearing him mutter an angry "fuck."

.

.

.

I wake early Monday morning. We haven't spoken a word to each other since Saturday night. Ironically, he's the one just sitting in bed, watching as I get ready for work.

"I thought maybe we could sleep in this morning, maybe cuddle or take a nice hot, sexy shower?" He scoots to the foot of the bed and slides his hand halfway up my skirt. I brush him off.

"I can't. We have a client who's just flown in over the weekend, and our team has to meet with her over breakfast."

"Couldn't you go in a little later? I've really missed you, and I need you right now, Bella." He makes another attempt at touching me intimately, and I look him squarely in the eye.

"When it's convenient for _you_, you want me. When you want to be sexually satisfied, you want me. Well what about what _I _want, James? Does that ever matter to you?"

"Of course it does, why would you ever ask me such a thing?" He frowns as if he's genuinely hurt by my statement.

I nod, knowing full well that it's bullshit, just words. The minute I tap into our issues, he'd start to make excuses, which I've grown used to. But right now, I just don't have the time for the same routine.

"I have to go to work, but we should discuss this later. Hopefully, you'll be here when I get home."

I don't wait for him to respond, grabbing my purse, as I abruptly walk out.

.

.

.

After a hellish day of dealing with Gianna Volturi and all of her eccentric demands, I all but drag myself through the door, feeling exhausted. Cookie greets me instantly, leaping into my lap as I plop down onto the sofa.

"Hi, beautiful girl, how's your day?" She purrs as I pet her silky coat. I rest my head against the back of the sofa and inhale deeply. The smell of fresh herbs invades my senses. I look up to see James swing out of the kitchen donned in an apron and oven mitt.

"Hey...dinner will be ready shortly. I've made Caprese salad and grilled salmon, just the way you taught me. I hope you're hungry." He smiles broadly before returning to the kitchen. Well, this is a turn of events.

We sit at the table, eating silently. To my surprise, he's done really well cooking dinner, something he hardly ever does. I sense that he's trying to hit this apology out of the park.

He watches me intently over the top of his wine glass as I eat. "Would Nonna be proud?"

"I think she would say you used too much olive oil on the Caprese, but she was a perfectionist. Other than that, dinner was very delicious."

"Good, it's my way of trying to make up for….everything. Sweetheart, I'm sorry about the other night, I truly am. I want to make it up to you, please tell me what I can do?"

"I want to talk about the restaurant, James." I say without hesitation, and I watch his jaw clench repeatedly as he barely makes eye contact with me. He's clearly aggravated that I've brought up the subject.

"What about it?" His voice grows annoyed as he resumes eating.

"You know my feelings about it. I want to begin looking into finding an area where I can start to think about laying the groundwork. You said you would support me in this."

"I know what I said, and I will keep my word, but I've been thinking, what about if we push the restaurant back, let's say another year or so and concentrate on something a little more family oriented?"

_Son-of-a bitch; is he kidding me?_

"The idea of the restaurant is completely family oriented, James. It would be _ours,_ not just mine; and the inspiration behind it comes from my family's background. I don't know how it can get much more _family_ oriented than that."

"That's not what I meant, technically. I was thinking of something a little closer to home." He smiles and tents his fingers in front of him.

"Like?" My annoyance can't be hidden.

"I want us to start a family. Let's have a baby, Bella?"

My eyebrows shoot up as my eyes widen and then narrow at him. "A baby?"

"Yes, Bella." He comes over to kneel in front of me, taking my hands in his. "I think we're at the perfect age, and I have this idea that's going to turn everything around for us with Devex. It's the ideal time right now for us to start trying to build a family."

I study him briefly as he waits anxiously for me to respond. I'm momentarily in shock, but come back to earth rather quickly. I snatch my hands away from him and shoot upright out of my chair.

"This is so typical of you, James, a baby, really?" I pace the floor. I'm so angry; I can barely form words.

"What do you mean? I thought you wanted a family?"

"I _do_ want a family, but you said we should wait until things with Devex were flowing smoothly. Now, since I want to move forward with _my_ business you want me barefoot and pregnant. Well, the answer is no. I will not push my dream back two years because you don't want to support it. If you can't understand that, then I guess we have a serious problem on our hands."

"I didn't say I didn't or wouldn't support it. Bella, come on. Jesus."

He yells after me, but I'm already halfway up the stairs, and I don't plan on turning around to hash this out with him any longer. It's pointless.

* * *

**Thank you for stopping by. Your comments and reviews are truly always welcomed. (If you haven't already, stop by and read up on the latest chapters for Counsel and it's companion piece, Cygnet:Bella's Story, under the Writesisters profile . Both outstanding reads!) See you next time.  
**


	4. Chapter 4, Masked Confusion

**_Mask'Charade Chapter 3, "Masked" Confusion_**

**_Disclaimer: All Twilight related material belong to the original author. Mask'Charade is the sole property of Chynnadoll._**

**_A/N: Quick note, I'm fortunate to have this chapter completed and beta'd early (by the wonderful FoolforEdward.) I want to say thank you to everyone who's read, reviewed, rec'd etc. Also, I wanted to give a special thanks to Fallingsnow Winter who's made an amazing banner for Mask'Charade and my other projects. I wanted to be able to share her awesome work with you and will soon once FoolforEdward and I launch our Writesisters website. It's taking a bit longer than expected, but we're working at getting it just right for unveiling. Your patience has been truly appreciated.  
_**

**_BPOV_**

Gianna Volturi breezes into the lobby, cellphone pressed to her ear, while she berates some poor unfortunate person on the other end of the line in Italian. It's an act I know far too well from my mom and nonna. I smile to myself, remembering the countless times my mother would read my father the riot act for something she was unhappy about, and later we'd have a snicker at her expense. Neither my father nor I could speak or understand much Italian, but it didn't stop my mother from speaking in her native tongue. I think a part of her relished the fact that we couldn't understand her at times.

"Good luck," Alice comes up behind me and whispers. I look on worriedly while Gianna flails her arms about dramatically.

"Thanks." I respond sarcastically and brace myself before approaching Gianna, but she beats me to the punch.

"Good, _you_ are here early, _no_?" Her heavy accent reminds me of nonna's.

"Um, yes, I'm Isabella. Welcome to New York and to New Heights. I'll be assisting you in whatever you need today." I extend my hand, and she reluctantly takes it.

She pulls her huge sunglasses halfway down her nose and eyes me cautiously.

"_You_ are Italiano, _no_?"

"Oh, yes….half actually. My mother is from Italy." I smile brightly; surprised that she recognizes that we share the same roots.

Jill walks in to greet Gianna, putting an end to our little bonding moment. Gianna immediately starts her tirade.

"Jillian, _dis_ is unacceptable. The Italian model that I arranged has canceled on me at _the_ last moment. What am I supposed to _do_ now?"

"Gianna, everything will be fine, we have models on standby for occasions such as this. We'll call a number of them in for you to make a new selection."

"_No!_" She exclaims sharply, emphasizing her point by raising both hands, her fingers pinched together in yet another overly dramatic gesture. "I need a _specific _model. _Dis_ _is ridiculous_; the magazine campaign will be _ruined! _Where is Leah?"

I shudder, listening to Gianna behave like the worst type of prima donna imaginable, before she storms off. My boss has her work cut out for her. She storms away as well, massaging her temples in distress. I give her a few moments to regroup, before I make my way to her office. She has her head bowed, reading over what I'm sure is the Volturi contract, and I tap on the door lightly.

"What is it, Bella?"

"Well, I was wondering how you wanted me to proceed, given Ms. Volturi's abrupt departure?"

"Shit, I need an Aleve or something. Do you have any painkillers?" She asks, while rummaging through her drawers.

"I have some at my desk. I'll go and get them."

"That can wait. Look, Bella, Leah is out sick with some sort of stomach virus, and the entire Volturi campaign is falling apart as we speak. New Heights can't survive the kind of negative press it will receive if this Gianna Volturi situation gets out of hand any further"

"I understand…"

She cuts me off, and I remain silent, deciding it would be better to let her get the rant off her chest.

"My father worked too hard to make this company what it is. When he passed it along to me, my grandfather went ballistic, saying it would fall apart in a week, but you know what…" She pauses and looks at me as if she's waiting for confirmation that I'm indeed paying attention.

"I kept this company running, Bella. _I_ did that." She stamps her index finger down on the desk with authority." Now, I know it's not in your job description, but you've shown initiative, and you've made such a positive impact here in a very short time; is there anything you might suggest to calm Gianna right now, at least until I can figure out plan B? She seems taken with you."

"I hardly think that she is. We just shared a brief moment about our native background. I…"

"Good, go with that. It's a start." She waves me out of the office as she continues rummaging through her paperwork.

"Jill, if I may suggest, what if we ask Tanya or Rosanna to fill in for the Volturi swim campaign, they're both beautiful. Either of them would be a perfect shoe-in for the absentee model."

She stops and looks at me pointedly, before a broad smile spreads across her face. She points at me.

"I knew you'd be an asset. Are you comfortable accompanying Tanya to the shoot?

"Uh…"

"Never mind, get Tanya in here, ASAP!"

I smile and turn on my heels, sprinting out into the lobby.

"And don't forget those painkillers!"

.

.

.

"_No_…._no, no, no_. _dis is all wrong!"_ Gianna buries her head in her hands.

"I could kill you for suggesting this to Jill, Bella." Tanya hisses at me, while I help her get ready to go on set.

Gianna is stomping around, barking orders at Riley Barnes, the deputy creative director. My mission is to ensure that the shoot goes ahead, while Jill speaks with Gianna's much more level-headed brother in Rome to ensure that the agency is not blamed for this debacle. The fact is, Gianna insisted on negotiating the talent contract with a particular Italian model herself, and now that she's been let down, apparently by someone as temperamental as she is, there's no telling who she'll try to blame. There is no way that she will admit to her father that the campaign launch will not be met because of her mishandling of the situation.

I leave Tanya with the make-up artist and return to the set to see if I can do anything to appease the beast.

"It's a mess for the most part. I don't know if using Tanya is going to fly with her." Riley nods in Gianna's direction, wincing slightly.

"Why not, she embodies everything this shoot is about; confidence, beauty, a phenomenal body." I retort.

"Hey, you're preaching to the choir?" he raises his hands in an appeasing gesture.

" I thought you were homosexual?" I lean in and whisper.

"That doesn't mean I'm blind, Bella. I _can_ recognize or admire a beautiful, sexy woman." He rolls his eyes dramatically, and I snicker quietly.

"That's good, because between the two of them, we have our work cut out for us."

"Well, hopefully we can change that. Jill filled me in on the client brief, and I stopped by Leah's to have her talk me through her vision for the shoot. I've said about five prayers on the way over here that I haven't contracted that nasty bug she has. God, you should've seen her; wrapped in a terry robe, bed hair and a red nose." He shakes his head and clicks his tongue dispassionately before walking over to talk to Gianna.

Jill sends me a text asking how everything is going. While responding to her, I hear Gianna's angry shriek. My response to Jill will have to be put on hold. I run back to the dressing room to see what's gotten up her ass now.

She's practically screaming at the make-up artist about the color palette he's used on Tanya. Riley tries to intervene, but Gianna is just being unreasonable. She snaps at Tanya, and calls Riley insubordinate, reminding him that he works for her. One look at his and Tanya's faces, and I know I need to step in before this rapidly becomes ugly.

"How can I help?" I whisper to Riley, before he slips off to the side to take a phone call, leaving me standing with Tanya.

"I swear, if it weren't for trying to keep this account I would tell her where she could shove this entire shoot. I'm not a friggin' model." Tanya bristles, as she begins roughly wiping lipstick from her mouth.

"I know she's a diva, but you can do this, Tanya, just a couple of hours, and we'll be home free. You're beautiful and…"

"Enough with over-complimenting, I don't need you telling me how beautiful I am. I have enough men telling me that."

I frown and decide to keep my encouragement to myself. Seems there's more than one diva in the room.

"Caius! _Are the other models ready_? I'm going to have to just make _dis_ work with what I have_. You_ are just not what I'm looking for." She dismissively motions to Tanya, who is practically smoking from her ears. She scowls at Gianna while preparing to change into her own clothing.

"Now we have one less model!" Caius throws up his hands in defeat.

"Well, what do _you _suppose I _do_, Caius?"

I chew on my thumbnail vigorously, dreading having to deliver this bad news to Jill; although, I'm sure Riley is relaying all of this to her at this very moment. New Heights is going to lose this account, and I have no clue as to how to help save it.

Caius pulls Gianni aside, and they enter into a whispered conversation. They turn and look at me several times before she points in my direction.

"_You…you_ are what I need. I want _you_ in hair and make-up, _kapish_?"

My eyes widen. "_Me_?" I point to myself in confusion.

"_Yes, you_. We have no time to waste,_ no_? Hair and make-up, now." She snaps her fingers, and just like that, I have at least three people with their hands in my hair and one more dabbing at my face with a sponge.

"Wait, I can't do this. I'm barely five foot five."

"_You_ have amazing skin tone and _hypnotic_ eyes. _Whatever you lack, _we'll compensate for with _retouching_. _Andiamo_!"

I swallow hard and look on in sheer horror, as I just know that this is not going to end well.

.

.

.

It's the longest car ride back to the office. Tanya bitches the whole way about Gianna choosing me over her. The bad thing is, I didn't want to be the one to do it, nor did I enjoy it at all; but at the end of the day, the shoot went well. Gianna seemed satisfied. It's all that matters.

Jill is waiting for us both when we finally arrive at the office. I can't quite read her expression, as she never lets on about much. Tanya approaches her first, with me not far behind. This could very well be the end of both our jobs.

"Tanya, Bella, a word please?" She walks into her office with us in tow. She sits behind her desk and waits until we've both joined her. Her eyes flicker back and forth between us, and I take a deep breath. Tanya's expression hasn't changed a bit.

"Gianna was very impressed with both of you, given the circumstances. The Volturi account remains ours." The corner of her mouth turns up into a small smirk. Tanya squeals with enthusiasm, while I'm in utter shock.

"Anyway, I wanted to thank both of you personally for representing New Heights, especially you, Bella. Gianna had nothing but glowing things to say about you."

"Thank you, Jill." I try and dial down my excitement.

"Thank _you,_ ladies. You can go now and enjoy the rest of your evening. Oh, and Bella…"

"Yes, Jill?"

"I can't wait to see your modeling debut." She laughs lightly and shakes her head, causing me to blush in embarrassment.

Tanya and I turn to leave. The rest of the office has pretty much packed up and gone home for the evening.

"So, I'd say this day deserves the perfect ending." She huffs, running both hands through her long, blond hair. "What do you say, Bella, interested in a little _masquerading? _ I could use a drink."

My ears prickle, and my heart speeds up at her proposal. I hope that my reaction is a little more difficult to read than my feelings. But I know I can't return to that club. It's far from appropriate for a married woman. I slip on my jacket and collect my purse and briefcase. I don't look her in the eye when I respond, knowing she'll have something snide to add to it.

"I can't tonight, Tanya. It's getting late, and James is waiting for me at home."

"Suit yourself." She shrugs and gathers her belongings. I'm a bit surprised that's all she has to say.

_Hmph, I stand corrected._

We share the elevator ride down to the garage in silence.

"Have a nice evening, and I'll see you tomorrow, Tanya." I greet her as we reach our destination.

"I plan on it. Maybe your mystery man will show up. You sure you won't change your mind about the club tonight?"

A flash of his perfect lips and mesmerizing stare reappears in my mind. I faintly shiver, shaking off the image, realizing that I almost did a complete one-eighty with my response.

"I'm sure." I say rather quickly and duck into my car before she has a chance to tempt me further.

I drive home, thinking about James and the way we've been bickering these past couple of days. It's starting to feel reminiscent of when my parents were reaching the end of their marriage. That scares me.

They tried hard to hide the fact that they were no longer happy from me, but even as a child, you sense when things are different with your parents. It started with little squabbles that my dad always used to refer to as "nonsense." There were full-blown arguments and then just long periods of silence. My mother is very strong-willed and outspoken, and when she stopped speaking out, I knew there was a problem.

I contemplate what it would be like to start a family, and I smile to myself. I truly want to be and could definitely see myself as a mother. With the exception of my parents, the rest of my extended family consists of parents with two or more children. Nonna constantly nagged my parents about having more children, but in the end, they were happy and satisfied with one little girl to love and spoil, as my father would put it. Despite their failed marriage, they always managed to make me feel loved.

I walked out on James this morning without fully discussing our problems, leaving things unresolved. I don't want things to end up the way they did with my parents. I feel terrible about our disagreements, and I love him, so I'm more than committed to doing whatever I can to make our marriage work. But bringing a child into the world in an attempt to fix things would be irresponsible and selfish of us, and _that_ I will not compromise on. We have to find common ground that works well for our marriage.

I enter the house, and it looks as if a bomb has detonated in the place. There are documents all over the place. James is still in his office attire, pacing the floor with the phone to his ear.

I pick up Cookie and give her a quick nuzzle before setting her back down. He finally notices my presence and walks over to kiss my cheek, while still speaking to whoever is on the other end of the line.

I shrug out of my jacket and hang it on the rack, kicking off my heels at the door. I'm a tad annoyed at the state of the place, so I begin picking the strewn papers up from the floor and sofa, but he places a hand on my wrist in protest. I drop the papers where I stand and wait as he finally ends the call.

"Sorry about the mess, but I need those." He says retrieving the documents from the sofa.

"I was just tidying up a bit, putting them in order."

"They're fine the way they are."

I frown, trying to gauge if his response is one of irritability, or if it simply came out wrong.

"How was work?" He asks jovially.

"It was fine, I didn't really do that much, but I got my first modeling assignment." I deadpan.

"What?" he laughs in confusion.

"It's a long story, but at the end of it all, I'll be featured in Volturi's new summer swim campaign. It's all very embarrassing."

"I don't think so, I mean, you're a beautiful woman, Bella. I'm proud of you, babe. Oh, and uh, nice lipstick." He drags his thumb gently across my bottom lip.

I instinctively touch my mouth, realizing I did a poor job of removing my make-up after the shoot.

This all seems odd. I left this morning on such awkward terms. We barely got anything resolved, and he's here congratulating me about my job. I'm a little stunned to say the least. He seems fine, but with the chaos around me, and his unusually disheveled appearance, I'd wager something is brewing. I decide to give in and poke the hornets' nest.

"James, I want to talk about what you proposed yesterday; having a baby."

"Let's not. I was wrong to have sprung that on you the way I did. I've been thinking about it all day, and you're right. Right now, is not the ideal time to start a family." He states coolly and starts reading over some document.

"Wait, what?" I'm dumbfounded by his sudden change of heart. But if I know James, I know without a doubt that this has nothing to do with me feeling strongly about not starting a family and _everything_ to do with something that he wants. The impetuous concern and congratulations about my job are definitely red flags. He's definitely up to something.

Crossing my arms, I eye him incredulously.

"So, does this sudden _epiphany_ you've had, mean you're ready to look into my ideas about the restaurant?"

"Heh," he chuckles tightly and shakes his head. "Yeah, we can…we can look into a few things, I'm open to that. Show me this location you were interested in."

My stance relaxes, and my expression softens. I hadn't expected him to give in so easily. I'm barely prepared, trying to remember where I've put the damned photos of the space.

"I- I hadn't….I mean I wasn't expecting…_damn it, _where did I put those photos?"

"Not a problem, we can always check it out another time…when you're prepared, of course." He smiles sweetly, but something in his voice sounds condescending to me. I could be wrong, but I can't ignore my gut.

"Hold on a second, I have the pictures on my phone." I retrieve my phone from my purse and swipe through the photos, holding it up for him to see once I find what I'm looking for.

He looks at it briefly and hands my phone back.

"It looks like a good location, plenty of clientele in downtown New York, impeccable Italian cuisine, a beautiful hostess; I don't see why this can't work. I'll contact the seller and inquire about the asking price." He winks and takes a seat on the sofa to resume reading.

"Wow," I scoff in disbelief. "I mean really, are you serious?" I plop down excitedly next to him.

"I promised you that I would, and I want to keep that promise." He takes my face in his hands and looks into my eyes. "I love you, Bella, and I'd do anything to support your dreams…" He kisses my lips, and I throw my arms around his neck, squealing with happiness.

"….just as you've promised to support mine." He gently pushes back from me and seriously gazes into my eyes.

"Of course, James, you know I'll always support you in anything."

"Good, because I need you to do something important for me."

As I suspected, nothing is ever done without his needs overriding everything. Inside I'm enraged, but my curiosity is piqued just as much.

"What is it, James?"

"Alright, as I told you I have an idea that's going to solidify getting this new client to sign with Devex." His eyes shine with enthusiasm.

"You never said the word 'solidify', but I'm listening."

"Oh, it will. I want to host a dinner party, you and I. I want to blow this guy's mind with the best food, and hospitality we can offer. I want you…no I_ need_ you to wow him with your culinary genius and leave the rest to me."

My first instinct is to tell him to go to hell, that I won't be his little 'Stepford' wife, but I need to be smart about this. _This_ idea could very well benefit me as well.

"I'll agree to this, but under one condition…we also use this dinner as the stepping stone to launch my restaurant." I hold out my hand and wait for him to seal the deal.

"I don't follow." His brows furrow in bewilderment.

"I will play the perfect little hostess to help woo your potential client, and in return, I want you to advertise my restaurant, so to speak."

"You don't have a restaurant for me to advertise, Bella."

"This is true, but it's just a matter of time before I do; and all you have to do is set the stage, get talking to guests about it, and I'll provide them with the merchandise. You sell yourself to the client you want to land, and I'll sell myself to the clientele I'm trying to build. It's a 'win, win.' What do you say, do we have a deal?"

He looks as if he wants to protest, but thinks better of it. I'm still waiting on him to shake my hand, and finally he takes it in his, but kisses it instead.

"You have a deal, my lovely wife."

.

.

.

The weekend rolls around, and I find myself at Alice's apartment, ringing her doorbell. I've been busy the entire week, what with my normal work schedule and planning the dinner party. I feel I've gone a bit overboard with the details, and I could use a second opinion and a friendly ear as well.

Alice answers the door, appearing to be in a panic as she invites me in then disappears into the kitchen.

"Bella, I'm making pasta with marinara. How long should pasta boil to get it al dente?"

I enter the kitchen and take a peek into the pot. She hands me the tongs, and I fish out a strand of pasta, biting into it.

"It's perfect."

I grab the pot from the stove and strain the contents.

"I think I may have bitten off a little more than I can chew, Alice."

"You only ate a strand." She frowns.

"No, not the pasta, Alice," I huff in frustration. "I'm talking about the dinner party."

"Dinner party?"

"Oh…here," I reach into my back pocket and hand her an invitation. "You're invited."

"Oh, gee thanks, Bella." She deadpans.

"I'm sorry, I just…I want this night to go perfectly for James, and for me as well."

"What's the occasion?" She asks as she presents me with some marinara on a spoon.

"James wants me to host this party to try and impress a potential client enough so that he'll sign with his company. Needs a little more salt."

She sprinkles some salt into her hand for my approval, and I gesture for her to use a little more.

"Go ahead, I'm listening. How does this help you as well?"

"I'm hoping that this will be a good opportunity for me to introduce a few dishes to potential clientele for when I open my restaurant."

"You _are_ going to open the restaurant!" She gasps and spins around.

"Yes, finally, James is on board with it." I laugh, and she excitedly throws her arms around my neck.

"Congratulations, Bella. I'm so happy for you and a little envious, I might add. I had a peek at the Volturi proof shots, and all I can say is, 'sexbomb.'

"Stop it." I giggle. "It was…very interesting, to say the least. I don't get how models do it, but I have a new-found respect for them. They earn every penny of the money they make, let me tell you."

"I bet Tanya was happy." She says sarcastically and begins pouring the sauce into a plastic bowl and securing it with a lid. "Pass me that other container, please?"

"I think she didn't mind so much after having to deal with Gianna."

"I bet. Okay, we're all set. Will you go for a ride with me? I want to take dinner over to my mom at the hospital."

"Um, sure. Will she mind?"

"No, I don't think so. She's been in high spirits lately. I think she'll enjoy seeing another friendly face." She smiles warmly.

.

.

.

Alice and I arrive at the hospital and quietly enter her mother's room. She's sitting comfortably by the window, peering out.

"Mom?" Alice walks over as her eyes light up, and they exchange hugs and kisses. I smile at the sight of the two of them, trying not to let my eyes well up with tears.

I think of my mother who's back in Italy, and how much I miss her. I realize that I need to call her as soon as I get home.

"Mom, I brought my friend, Bella with me."

She leans her head to the side to get a better look at me. She looks beautiful, a slightly older version of Alice, but with darker, longer hair, braided into a neat fishtail. Her skin is like porcelain, and her eyes, crystal blue. She's wearing a slightly vacant expression as she studies me, before a smile spreads across her face.

"Hello, Mrs. Brandon. It's so good to see you again."

"Bella, how are you?" She reaches out for me, and I take her hands in mine.

"I'm doing well Mrs. Brandon. I can't really complain."

"It's lovely to see you again. Alice talks about you all the time. How's your husband?"

"Oh, he's fine, ma'am."  
She frowns slightly then smirks. "_Ma'am_? Bella, you're always so polite, just like my beautiful daughter. Maybe you can let her in on your secret on how to land a husband."

"No thanks, Mom. I'm fine with my marital status at the moment." Alice interrupts, sensing her mother is about to embarrass her. Something I know far too well when it comes to mothers. "I brought you dinner, Mom. Look, I made pasta with marinara and fresh bread."

Alice unpacks the bowls, and I help with setting up plates as I look around for silverware. While Alice plates up the food, I look around for a knife to slice the mini loaf of bread. Alice senses right away what I'm in search of and reminds me that I won't find what I'm looking for in here. I mentally kick myself for not remembering. Instead, I tear the bread into portions, placing a piece on each plate.

"Bella, will you join us?" Mrs. Brandon asks as she comes over to take a seat at the table.

I look at Alice, and she nods her head in encouragement. I grab a plate and spoon pasta and sauce onto it.

Mrs. Brandon digs in and hums her praise, which puts a smile on Alice's face.

"This is delicious, sweetheart. You're getting much better at this. I remember how much you used to hate cooking."

"Well, I don't hate it so much now, especially if you enjoy it, Mom."

"It's excellent, Al. You did great." I add taking a bite.

"That's a huge compliment coming from you, Bella. Alice tells me you're a fabulous cook and want to open your own restaurant?"

"Yes…well, I mean about opening the restaurant. I think I'm an 'okay' cook, though."

"Nonsense, you're an outstanding cook, and that restaurant is going to be a phenomenal success when you open it. I guarantee it."

"Don't bother arguing with her Bella, she's completely headstrong." Mrs. Brandon laughs, and it's so good to see her so happy. The moments are few and far between, according to Alice.

"I'm my mother's daughter." Alice shakes her head and chortles before taking a bite of her bread. We're both startled by a sharp bang on the table, and our eyes dart over to Mrs. Brandon when we realize she's slammed her fist against it. Her expression has changed to resemble anger and pain.

"You're nothing like me, Alice Brandon. Do you understand me? Nothing!"

"It's okay, Mom." She instantly reaches over to comfort her by rubbing her hand. "That's not what I meant."

"I don't ever want to hear you say that again, Alice, promise me. You are special and good. You're nothing like me. Everything that you are comes from your father. He's a wonderful man and…" Her lip begins to quiver as she covers her face. Alice gently pulls her hands away and tentatively wraps her arms around her.

I can't imagine what it's like for her or Alice. The look of shame that mars her features now is so different from the expression it held when we first arrived. My heart sinks, as I watch her mother break down in her arms.

My eyes settle on the white plastic bracelet that's clasped around her trembling wrist; her fist clenched so tightly that her knuckle is turning white. I wish there was a way for me to offer some comfort, but Alice knows exactly what's needed to calm her. Her whispered shushes and soothing words seem to relax her.

I look on as the tension leaves her hands. Her fists unclench and a red stream trickles down her wrist.

"Oh, my God, Alice…her hand!"

Alice pulls away and examines her mother's hand, and Mrs. Brandon begins to shake at the sight of the blood.

"I-I'm so sorry Alice. I di-didn't mean to." She looks like a frightened little girl, being scolded by her parents.

"It's alright, Mom, you're alright. It was just an accident. Bella, could you look in that top drawer, there's a small first-aid kit inside."

I rush over and retrieve the kit from the drawer and hand it to Alice, and she immediately dresses her mother's wound.

.

.

.

After we say our goodbyes to Mrs. Brandon, I wait in the car while Alice speaks with her doctor.

We drive in silence, mostly because I don't know what to say. Visions of Alice taking care of her mother after the 'incident' plague my thoughts. I want to say _something_, but I'm afraid something inappropriate may come out. She must sense my unsettled behavior.

"I'm sorry about that. Had I known she–"

"Alice, please don't apologize. I…I can't imagine how difficult it must be for your mom or you. I just got so afraid when I saw the blood."

"Yeah, she gets angry when she thinks about certain things. What you witnessed today was actually mild. She's learning how to reign in her anger, but there are still…complications." She shrugs.

"But she seemed fine, and then all of a sudden…. maybe it was too much for her…"

She glances over at me, her face scrunched with confusion.

"I meant with me being there, maybe it triggered something?"

"No, Bella. I made the remark about me being my mother's daughter, that's what triggered her reaction. She _despises_ when my father and I make those sorts of references, and she's terrified knowing that this _thing_ could be hereditary, the disorder. I just keep trying to instill that I'm okay; that I'm going to be fine."

"You're so wonderful with her, Alice."

"Well, she's my mom." She states simply.

Halfway into town, Alice says she needs to make a quick stop, and I'm a little surprised at where we end up.

"Um…Alice, is there something you want to tell me?"

"Probably," she laughs nervously, and I quirk an eyebrow at her.

"Okay, fine. I was going to tell you earlier, but things kind of got outta hand before, and I didn't get the chance."

I wait for her to finish, my expression not wavering.

"You remember the cute waiter, Jasper?"

"Vaguely." I cross my arms, imagining where this is going.

"Liar, you remember him well. Anyway, he and I have become …acquainted. To make a long story short, I told him I would bring him a homemade dinner tonight. He works long hours and barely gets the chance to have a proper meal."

"Great." I glance around the seedy area, recalling how I felt the last time I was in this parking lot. "Make it fast, Alice, please?"

"You're not coming in?"

"God, no. I shouldn't have come here the first time. No, I'll wait for you in the car."

Slews of people crowd the line in front of Club Masquerade. I pan through the different faces and cringe, wondering what in the hell I was thinking when I let them talk me into attending this place.

"Alright, suit yourself, but I hardly think this is the best place for a young, attractive woman such as yourself to be alone. There are some pretty questionable looking individuals out here and…"

"Say no more."

She smiles and reaches into the back to grab the bag of food, and we both exit the car.

We head up to the front, but we don't have to wait in the ridiculous line that precedes us. Alice whispers something to the bouncer, and just like that, we're inside.

The lights swirl around us as the music thumps loudly, reverberating in the pit of my stomach. My ears feel like they're about to explode from the noise alone, not to mention, the lively cheering and dancing crowd. It seems more boisterous than the last time, maybe because it's the weekend.

We make our way through the madness of bumping and grinding couples to the spiral staircase. A moment of déjà vu sets in. Like the first time, my heart pounds with each step we climb, until we reach the landing.

"Hey, I remember you two lovely ladies. Come back for more, huh?" Demetri smiles, showing nearly all of his perfect teeth.

"Not tonight, we're here to see Jasper. Could you get him for me?"

"Well, I can't leave the door, but you ladies are welcome to go inside. He's over at the bar."

"Thanks, Demetri." She starts to advance, and I pull her back.

"I am not wearing a mask, Alice." I say through gritted teeth.

"It's fine, Bella, just come on. You can wait here, if you'd like. I see Jasper. I'll just be a few minutes."

I watch and wait by the entrance as she approaches Jasper. He looks excited to see her, as he gives her a quick hug and peck on the cheek. They look like they'd make a nice couple. Her face lights up when she talks with him. It makes me smile, knowing that he may be someone special she can have in her life. After witnessing Alice take care of her mother, and knowing she's been doing it for so long, I realize that maybe it's time for someone to take care of her, or at the very least bring some happiness into her life.

I jump when I feel a hand softly squeeze my elbow, and I whirl around at the sound of his voice and a pair of intense eyes, staring back at me.

"I thought I'd never see you again."

* * *

**Thank you and see you guys next chapter.**


	5. Chapter 5, Unmasked

**Disclaimer: All Twilight related material are sole property of the original author. No copyright infringement is intended. Mask'charade belongs to Chynnadoll. **

**Mask'charade Chapter 4, Unmasked**

_I thought I'd never see you again._

My heart speeds up like I've just run the Olympic one hundred meter sprint, and my hand instinctively flies up, subtly clenching my chest. His words reverberate in my head, and his piercing stare slices through me like shards of green glass. I feel numb, rooted to the spot as his eyes rake over me.

I don't respond. What would I say? A thousand things are rolling through my head, each one more inappropriate than the last. Anything I say would leave him with the impression that I've been thinking about him. Instead, I choose simply to give him a tightlipped smile.

"I'm kind of surprised to see you here again." Behind the black satin mask, one of his thick, dark brows arches as he reaches out and runs his thumb across my wedding ring. I jump slightly from the tiny electric current that passes through me as our skins touch, and the corner of his mouth turns up.

"Are you going to say anything?"

"I–I'm married." I shake my head instantly as the words leave my mouth, and I realize how idiotic I must sound.

"I think you made_ that_ point very clear before, and yet…here you are." He removes his hand and there's a sudden pang of _something_ that triggers inside of me. I can't be sure of what it is. I don't think I want to know.

"I just meant that I'm not here to participate in _this _tonight."

Both brows shoot up this time, and his grin reveals not only a heart-stopping smile, but clear amusement.

"_This_? What exactly do you mean by 'This'?

As if beckoned, my eyes quickly sweep the club, catching glimpses of swaying bodies and laughter. I nervously rub the back of my neck, knowing that he senses my discomfort.

I hear the sound of an incoming message on my phone, and I check to find that it's from James. As I quickly read over the message, I become pissed off, more at the tone than the content of the message.

_Looks like your dream of purchasing that little 'hole in the wall' is a bust…seller interested in another buyer. Btw, where the hell are you?_

I scowl as I read it over for a second time. There's no "babe, I'm sorry about this." Or "Don't worry, we'll find another great location." I can't be sure since this was sent in a text, but I _am_ sure about him. He couldn't care less that I've lost the location.

Angry and disappointed by this news, I don't respond and hastily shove my phone back into my purse. I turn my attention to the person in front of me once again..

"Listen, I don't know what you're thinking, but the fact that you're married is duly noted." He holds up his hands, "I meant no disrespect. I apologize if I've offended you in any way."

"You didn't offend me." I practically shout over the increased volume of the music. "I just wish my friend would hurry up."

"You're waiting for someone?"

"Yes, my friend…she's…" I look around and finally spot Alice and Jasper, who seem to be cozying up to each another. I sigh heavily, realizing that this visit is going to take longer than anticipated, and in my current sour mood, I'm definitely not a happy camper.

"It appears that she's not exactly _ready_ to leave." He says as he too spots Alice and Jasper.

"No, it doesn't look like it." I walk off angrily and take a seat at the bar. The barmaid comes over, and I hold up my hand, brushing her off.

_Damn it, Alice!_

She knows I'm not comfortable being in this place, and yet she chooses this moment to play love connection. I'm flaming mad as I check my watch. Aside from the bad news he's just sent me, James seems livid because I haven't returned home. I think long and hard before I finally decide to slip off to the back and give him a call.

I call his cell phone several times only to reach his voicemail. I know that I've just ignored his message, and although he often doesn't answer his phone, it doesn't change the fact that it bothers me.

I call his office and wait impatiently for him the answer, but I get no response. Now, I'm the one who's livid. Why the hell is he not answering my calls? I forego the urge to leave a nasty voicemail. I'd rather hash this out face-to-face when I get home.

I may have to hail a cab, as it appears that Alice is planning on staying longer than I actually want to. I decide to give her ten more minutes, and then I'm out of here, with or without her.

I return to the bar and settle on having a drink after all. The barmaid takes my order for a rum and coke as she simultaneously chats with other patrons, one being the handsome, green-eyed stranger.

He's seated comfortably about three stools down from me, savoring a drink, his eyes still fixated on me. Normally, such an act would make me feel uncomfortable, but something about his eyes, intense as they may be, tells me that he's nothing but gentle, kind and honest. I must be losing my mind. I barely know this man, and here I am making all sorts of assumptions about him. He's a stranger, hanging out in a questionable pick-up joint, wearing a black mask. God only knows what kind of freak he might be.

"So, have you looked any further into a place to sell your collection?"

My eyes snap to the pretty barmaid as she refreshes his drink. I'm unsure if it's actually him that she's conversing with until he answers.

"I have a couple of places in mind, but nothing has been set in stone, though I'm quite fond of this little spot Downtown. It's pretty much a hole in the wall right now, but I think it has character."

"Well, I'm sure you'll turn it into something spectacular." She smiles broadly and makes her rounds.

_A hole in the wall? Downtown?_

That sounds vaguely like the place I've looked at to open the restaurant. I could be way off base about this, but for some reason, it's gnawing at my brain. I bite my lip as I think of a clever way to get more accurate information out of him and slide down two stools.

"Hi." I chuckle nervously.

"Hello again, still here, I see."

"Yes, still waiting on my friend. Um…I don't mean to be nosy, but I overheard you talking, and I'm curious about something."

"Are you now?" He grins slyly, and I wonder what he thinks I'm actually going to say. From the way his eyes are twinkling, I'd wager his thoughts are extremely suggestive. I need to put a quick end to that.

"Yes, I overheard you saying that you're considering purchasing a place downtown. You also referred to it as a 'hole in the wall'. I think we might be interested in the same place."

"Is that so?" He smirks, his eyes lowering to his half-filled glass as he nonchalantly swirls the contents with a stirrer. "That's uh…quite an assumption you've made from the little that's been said. Do you always prematurely jump to conclusions?"

He's obviously taking some amusement from this, but I'm far from joking. If he is the other buyer that James was referring, I'm not beyond charming him into changing his mind. That location is perfect for my restaurant, and it's mine.

I bring my drink to my lips, pausing before taking a sip.

"I don't normally jump to conclusions. I'm just trying to protect my interests." I glance over the rim of the glass, gauging his reaction before I swallow slowly.

"Your interests? Firstly, you're not even sure we're interested in the _same_ location. Downtown covers a large area, in case you haven't noticed, but let's test your assumptions. Tell me the address of the location you're interested in, and I'll confirm whether they're one and the same."

"I'll do you one better," I dig out my phone and show him the picture. He sits upright and looks at me before handing my phone back.

"I had this vision to sell my wine collection there. I'm not willing to relinquish it." He says firmly, I assume in an attempt to intimidate me. "Well _I'm _no_t_ relinquishing it either. I have plans to open my dream restaurant at this very location, and I intend to do just that."

"Have you contacted the seller yet?" He huffs irritably and folds his arms.

"I…"

"Because I've put in an offer, and I'm prepared to pay him double, triple even or _whatever_ he's asking."

I narrow my eyes at him angrily. I see how this is going to be. He's some sort of hotshot bully with a ton of money to throw around, and he thinks I can't compete. Technically that's true, but I'm not just going to back down.

My knee jumps anxiously as I try and remember Jill's tactics when she's backed into a corner. I recall her words, "women have it hard enough, Bella. Never back down."

It's clear to me that I can't bargain with this guy, because I have absolutely nothing to offer in exchange for him relinquishing the space.

"Look, I know you don't know me from Adam, but…you look like a wealthy guy that could buy any place you wanted."

"Assumptions again, but you're correct, I can. I fail to see your point."

My dream feels like it's slowly, painfully drifting away with each word he speaks. I'm so in love with this location, and I've finally gotten James on board. It's going to kill me to have to let it go.

"Forget it. There's no point to be made." I exhale dejectedly and get up to walk away, but he stops me.

"What exactly is your interest in the space?"

"Does it matter?"

"Try me."

"I want to open a restaurant. It was my nonna's wish for me, and it's my dream. I promised her on her deathbed that I'd accomplish that dream." I'm sure that he's noticed my distressed tone, and I'm not trying to hide it either. I'm so upset at the moment, I just want to get out of here and go back to the drawing board and find another acceptable location.

"Good luck with your wine collection." I say hastily and walk away.

"Wait." He calls out, and I turn back to see him approach me.

"Maybe we can come to some sort of compromise."

"I don't see how that's possible. It's not like we can split the place in two." I frown incredulously.

"Well, of course it's not as _simple_ as that, but I'm willing to discuss some alternatives. What do you say?"

I continue to eye him skeptically as I contemplate his proposition. What sort of _alternatives _could he possibly suggest that would interest me, better yet, get me what I want?

"Under one condition."

"And what's that?"

"You remove the mask. I can't discuss serious business with you wearing that thing."

His head bows as he lets out a laugh, but he slowly peels away the mask, revealing each intriguing feature until his strikingly handsome face is fully revealed.

From his strong angled jaw and chin to his perfectly straight nose; my breath subtly hitches at the sight of this man. He's truly magnificent. My lips part slightly as I blink up at him. It's strange that I haven't been wearing a mask the entire time, but I feel like he's also just really seeing me for the first time.

"Shall we?" He extends his hand for me to pass in front of him. My brow furrows in confusion. Where the hell does he think we're going?

"Shall we what?"

"Well, we can't very well talk here. I have a private booth in the V.I.P section. We can discuss things there."

_V.I.P…private booth?_ I glance toward the back of the club where he's gestured and swallow hard.

"It's up to you." He says, sensing my slight apprehension and heads off without me.

My mouth opens and closes repeatedly, but nothing comes out. I turn around to see where Alice is still chatting with Jasper. I turn back to see him taking a seat at his personal table.

Everything inside me screams not to follow, but my curiosity is winning out. I send Alice a short text, letting her know where I am and still myself before joining him.

He's having an earnest discussion on his phone as I cautiously approach. He looks up and motions for me to take a seat. I try to look casual as I do so.

"Can I order you something to drink?" He says, ending the call.

"No…thank you."

I can't help but to stare at his face, I feel some relief at being able to fully see him. He looks to be in his early to mid-thirties, but a boyishness shines through from certain angles. The infrequent slight scowl, along with the subtle clenching of the jaw reminds me of his strong masculinity.

Feeling rather awkward, I think it's best to just get to the matter at hand.

"About my restaurant, I…"

"Tell me about it." He folds his hands on the table in front of him and looks to be genuinely interested.

"What do you want to know?" A waiter comes over and places a glass in front of each of us and pours from what looks to be an expensive bottle of wine.

"What are your ideas, what kind of food will be served? What sort of atmosphere are you looking to create? Is this going to be some regular, fast food burger joint?"

I know that he doesn't know me, or anything about my plans; but I'm still offended by his obvious assumptions.

"No, it's not going to be some _burger joint_. In fact, I won't be selling fast food at all. I'm opening a restaurant that offers the most _impeccable_ Italian cuisine."

His eyebrows rise in surprised interest as he nods with approval. He swirls the liquid around in the glass, sniffs it and swallows some of the contents. "Sounds mouthwatering. Go on."

"That's it." I scoff sarcastically.

"Will you be doing the cooking in this restaurant, or do you plan to hire a chef?" He says somewhat impatiently.

"I will devise the menu as well as be the hostess. I will hire a chef to collaborate with, but for the most part, this is _my _project, _my dream._ I will oversee everything."

"Mmm…that sounds sort of obsessive, but I happen to know a bit about that." He adds nonchalantly. "Continue."

"It's not obsession, I've just wanted this for a long time, and I feel like I can almost taste it now. It's my dream, my goal in life, not an obsession."

He looks at me pointedly, a faint smirk in place. Thoughts about being this close to achieving my dream overpowers my emotions, and I feel myself smiling broadly as I discuss it. My obvious passion and enthusiasm seems to engender more interest in him.

"So, this is your…what did you call her, _non-no_…"

"Nonna…she's my grandmother…was…is…" My voice trails off sadly as I think about her no longer being with me.

"Nonna….right…you're Italian." He says as he finishes off the contents of his glass.

"Yes, I am."

I turn and look out to the dance floor as the music slows to a sensual beat. I try to find Alice; ,but she and Jasper must have slipped off somewhere. For a brief moment, I forget that I'm seated with him until I feel his eyes practically burning a hole right through me. I turn to face him, and my feeling is confirmed. He's staring at me again with an expression I can't seem to read. I look down and quietly clear my throat, hoping it will snap us out of this awkward moment.

"So…um….you never told me what you get out of this, if you decide to back off."

"Oh, I'm not _entirely_ backing off. In fact, it'll be better for both of us if I don't."

Now, he really has me curious.

"Why?"

"That's simple; I get a place to introduce and successfully sell my wine collection. What better place to showcase it than in an elegant Italian restaurant, run by a beautiful hostess?"

My eyes lock with his, and it seem like we're caught in some sort of trance for ages. Suddenly, I feel like this whole thing in entering into uncharted territory, and that I'm the one that needs to get us back on track.

"So, about the restaurant…"

"The space is yours." He interrupts without hesitation, and his words stun me.

"What?"

"I called the seller and bought it, and now I'm in the position to sell it to you."

I gape in astonishment, but can't help the smile that I'm fighting so hard to contain.

"H-how much?"

"Market value."

"Which is? I hadn't gotten around to finding out what he was asking for it."

He laughs and shakes his head. "How about this, I'll give the space to you…"

"Come again?" I blink and lean in; I must be mistaken about what he'd just said.

"I'll give you the space to open your restaurant, and in return, you'll feature my wine collection as a complement to your menu."

He leans back in his seat and waits patiently. My head is practically spinning. A week ago, I wasn't sure how, or if I'd even be able to pursue my dream, and now I have James supporting me and a business proposition that will possibly make it a huge success. I've always been interested in learning about different wines and liqueurs. I knew it would play a major role in terms of fine dining. It's essential to have the perfect wine paired with the perfect meal. It's all a part of Italian cuisine and culture. We love good food and wine equally.

"Just so I understand you properly, you want to feature your wine collection in my restaurant?"

"That is correct."

"So, we'd be in a partnership?"

He nods and flashes an almost devious grin. "That's _absolutely_ correct."

"Well, I have to say I wasn't expecting any of this."

"Oh, really…what _were_ you expecting?" Just like that, the suggestive tone is back.

"Just not this. I swore I'd never enter this place again, and here I am." My response is purposely vague, wanting to avoid the question.

"Yes you are."

"And what are the odds that I'd run into you again?" I laugh.

"I agree."

"And the oddest thing is that coming here turned out to work in my favor. I think I've just found a new business partner."

"So, is that a yes…you'll open your restaurant, and you'll feature my collection on the menu?"

"I'll need to discuss things with my husband first, but other than that, I think you have yourself a deal." I reach out my hand for us to cement our potential partnership, and he raises his glass instead, prompting me to do the same.

"This is one of my best. Tell me what you think."

I pick up the glass and tilt it to my lips.

"No, no, no," He stops me and instructs me to take my time, and explains that everything should be savored. "Prepare the wine first."

I lower it slowly and mimic him as he swirls the liquid around in the glass.

"Now, close your eyes." His is voice a velvet-like whisper. I lower my eyes slowly, recording the remarkable green of his to my memory before they finally close. "Now, breathe in the wine's aroma."

I inhale deeply, taking in the hint of mint and fig, and I smile.

"Do you recognize it?"

"Yes." I breathe deeply.

"Good, now taste."

I take a small sip, letting it settle on my tongue and open my eyes to see him watching tentatively as I savor the taste. I take a healthy mouthful and let it ease down my throat. I smile my approval, and his expression shows his pleasure. He then presents his hand.

"I'm Ned, and you are?"

I place my hand in his, and we share a gentle exchange. "I'm Bella."

* * *

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	6. Chapter 6 Dangerous Liaisons

**Mask'charade Chapter 5, Dangerous Liaisons **

**Disclaimer: All Twilight related material are sole property of the original author. Mask'charade belongs to Chynnadoll.**

**A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! This chapter was supposed to be posted beforehand, but is finding its way to you a little late. I apologize. Thank you all for the continued support for this story.**

**FoolforEdaward edits.**

**Bpov**

"James?" I race inside, excited to tell him my great news. I still can't believe it myself. I hurry up the stairs and into our bedroom as he emerges from the bathroom, freshly showered.

"Where were you?" He asks tersely as he dries his hair, barely looking at me.

"I was at Alice's. I told you that I'd be over there getting her input on the dinner party," my excitement now replaced by annoyance at being questioned like a teenager who'd just missed curfew.

"Bella, it's almost eleven o'clock. You've been at Alice's all this time discussing a dinner party?" He asks sarcastically. "I tried calling you several times, James; your cell and even at the office, you didn't answer."

His expression changes somewhat, and he diverts his gaze. He turns away and resumes toweling himself. I look on, waiting for a response but he says nothing as he dresses for bed. He pulls back the bedding and gets in before he finally looks at me.

"What?"

I shake my head, scoffing in disbelief. "Do you have anything to say about me calling you, and you not answering?"

"Oh…I must've gone out to get something to eat. I guess I missed you."

"And your cell?"

"I don't know, Bella. I think the damned thing is on the fritz. I'll have it looked at first thing in the morning." He says nonchalantly and turns over, pulling the sheet up around him.

"James….I wanted to talk to you about something important that happened to me today."

"Can we shelve this until tomorrow, babe? I've had a rough day, and I'm completely wiped-out."

"Fine!"

Outraged by his lack of interest, I storm into the bathroom and shower before getting ready for bed.

_To hell with him!_

He's never been remotely interested in me opening the restaurant, so I shouldn't be surprised by his attitude.

I think back to the cavalier way that he informed me that the vendor of the property, which I felt was perfect, was interested in another buyer. He didn't express one word of remorse at me missing out.

I smile in anticipation at his surprise and my satisfaction when I finally tell him my news. I slip my robe on and return to the bedroom. He's sitting up against the headboard watching me. I ignore him as I climb into bed and turn the lights off. He sighs heavily.

"Tell me your news."

"It's not important, and I'm tired."

He reaches across me and flips on the light switch.

"Tell me."

"Fine, you know the space I want for my restaurant? Well, I found a way to secure it after all."

"Bella, I've already told you that the seller was interested in another buyer. It's not going to happen. I think we need to concentrate on the dinner party and the possibility of building you some clientele first, then we can move forward from there."

He's so damned smart and smug. He doesn't even listen to what I have to say before he shoots it down. I'd love to enlighten him, but I'll wait until I have a formal agreement with Ned in my hand, that way there'll be nothing negative he can say.

"You're probably right…as always." I simply placate, leaning over to peck his lips before turning off the light once again.

"You'll see, sweetheart. I have your best interests at heart." He sighs contentedly and snuggles back under the covers. I glance over my shoulder angrily then frustratedly tuck my pillow under my head. He's snoring softly in a matter of minutes, but I'm too wound up to sleep.

I stare at the ceiling, thinking about Ned's business proposition, and I smile. I've waited a long time to realize my dream. All I can focus on are the numerous plans fluttering through my mind. Images of elegant décor with an Italian ambience pervade my thoughts. I'd create the most scrumptious menu, and accompanied by Ned's exquisite wine collection, the restaurant is sure to be a success.

A muted light brightens the darkness and invades my happy meditation. I reach for my phone and read the message. "_I apologize for the late intrusion or waking you, but I just wanted to advise that I'll be at the location with the owner for a final inspection and handover tomorrow. It would be good if you could be there."_

_"What time?"_ I text and hit send. He replies almost immediately.

_"Noon."_

_"I'll be there."_ I switch off my phone and place it back on the stand. Finally, there's something gratifying enough to lull me into a blissful sleep.

.

.

.

It's eleven thirty, and I'm finishing up a creative brief. Alice pops her head in my cubicle, and I wave her in.

"You want to get some lunch? I'm in the mood for a veggie Sicilian slice over at Andretti's."

"Oh, that sounds fabulous, but I can't today. I have an appointment at noon. I hope I can make it on time." I check my watch as I finally email the document Riley.

"An appointment…is everything alright?"

"Huh…oh yes. I just…"

Her concerned expression prompts me to break my rule about counting chickens before they are hatched. Alice has been a good friend to me, and I know I can trust her. Besides, if I don't tell someone this news, I'm likely to combust.

"Okay, I don't have all of the details yet, but I'm on my way to meet with someone about obtaining the space to open my restaurant."

"Really? Bella, that's amazing news!"

"I know, and the crazy thing is that the guy I was talking to at the club last night is interested in going into partnership with me."

"The really gorgeous guy at Club Masquerade? What does _he _have to do with this?" She frowns in confusion. I pull up my chair and sit in front of her, lowering my voice so that we don't attract prying eyes and ears. Tanya would just love it if she thought there was gossip about me that she could spread around the office.

"Alice, as it turns out, we were both interested in the same location. I overheard him saying that he'd found a place from which to sell his wine collection, and I'd just received a message from James, informing me that the seller had gone with another buyer."

"And it turned out to be this guy?"

"Yes."

"I still don't understand what this has to do with you getting the location?"

I check my watch again and realize that time is getting away from me.

"Well, to make a long story short, he bought the property and has proposed that we share the space and become co-owners. I open and manage the restaurant on the proviso that I market and use his wine exclusively to complement my menu. But I have to go now, if I expect to make it on time. I promise I'll tell you everything when I get back."

"Okay, but be careful, Bella." We hug briefly, and she wishes me luck before I hurry off to Jill's office to clear me having an extra long lunch. I don't mention the reason for the request, for obvious reasons. I race back to my desk to grab my purse and coat before I rush downtown.

.

.

.

I frown as I survey the exterior of the building. This place truly is a hole in the wall. Realization sets in that it's going to take a lot of money to get this place even half presentable; more money than I have. I gingerly step over the debris on the sidewalk and open the door. Ned has his back to me as he talks to an older gentleman. They shake hands, and he nods to Ned as he notices me over his shoulder. He turns and waves me over.

"This is Bella, the young woman I was telling you about."

"Hello, I'm Phil the _former_ owner of this place." He chuckles and offers his hand.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you."

I take a short trip around the room, inspecting what's left of the existing fit-out and notice that there's a counter top that runs half the length of the room. I trail my hand across the top as I cross the room.

"This used to be a bar?" I turn and look at Phil.

"Yes it was, a pub actually, nothing too fancy. It was more of a guy's place; you know, pool tables, sports on the flat screens, mechanical bull. " He laughs.

"Sounds like fun. Why do you want to sell it?"

"Let's just say I've outgrown the business. I was in the middle of renovations, as you can see." He kicks through some of the chipped paint and dust that covers the floor and shrugs. "One morning I woke up and could no longer see the vision I'd originally had for it.

The place brought me good success, but I have other establishments outside of New York, and the wife, kids and I are looking to relocate. We're more partial to a warmer climate."

"California sounds like your place." Ned adds with a chuckle.

"You've read my mind, man."

I continue studying the place. Every inch of the room, with the exception of the bar will need to be re-designed. It's going to take a lot of time, effort and money to turn this place into what I've envisaged, not to mention the amount of patience that it will require to achieve my goals. I have plenty to consider.

"Ned here was just telling me your plans for the space. I think it's a fantastic concept. There are tons of good restaurants downtown, but I think the market for great Italian food could be improved upon."

"Well, I'm going to give it a good try." I smile, and Ned nods in approval.

"Well, please save me a table for the grand opening. Here are the keys and the paperwork, congratulations to the both of you." He hands the documents over to Ned, then shakes our hands again, before he leaves us standing in the middle of an utter disaster.

Ned walks across the room, rubble cracking beneath his shoes. He turns and smiles as he holds up his hands. "What do you think…a good place for some exceptional Italian cuisine and wine?"

I step toward him and look around skeptically.

_So much money_! I shake my head, silently wondering what in the world I've gotten myself into. I knew the place wasn't in the best condition, but I did only get to view it from the outside. From the inside, it looks like a wrecking ball has smashed through it.

"Bella?"

"I think we have our work cut out for us." I sigh exasperatedly.

He closes the distance between us, eyes glittering with enthusiasm as he smirks. "I'm all in, if you are."

"I believe there are two matters we need to clear up before we both _throw_ ourselves into this partnership."

"Okay, shoot."

"First, the topic of ownership. This has to be a _co-ownership_. Since you're contributing your wine collection, I won't feel comfortable with it any other way."

"Say no more. I'll have something drawn up by the next time we meet, onto the next matter."

"I can't accept co-ownership without paying anything for it. It wouldn't be right."

His heavy brows knit together in a clear look of annoyance. "You're not getting it for_ nothing_. We're entering into a partnership. You get to open your restaurant and manage the business in exchange for allowing my wine collection to be exclusively featured on the menu. We've already established this."

"I know, but it just feels…"

"Feels what?" He pinches the bridge of his nose and perches a hand on his hip. "Are you not able to do this unless some sort of monetary exchange happens? Because if that's the case, we can revert back to my original proposition of having you pay your half of the market value."

"And you've never told me what that was."

"And here I thought I was being a nice guy by doing you a damned favor." He mumbles, but I hear every word. He walks over to the window and tears a piece of newspaper that's currently serving as drapery and scribbles something down on it before thrusting it at me. Apparently, I've offended him in some way.

"What's this?" I look at the numbers on the paper and glare at him.

"It's what I paid for the place. A check will do."

"Personal?"

"I trust you." He shrugs.

I look at the figure again and swallow hard. James would have a coronary if I showed him this, but I will not lose this place, even with the enormous challenge of turning it into my vision.

"I'll have the check to you before the end of the week."

"Good…now can we shake on the deal?"

"One last thing…"

"Christ! What now? Am I going to have to reconsider this partnership already?" He asks jokingly.

"No, but I was thinking that we're entering into this sort of blindly….well you are at least."

"How do you figure that?"

"Well, I have sampled your merchandise, but you've yet to test mine."

A smile slowly spreads across his face, and I instantly realize how that must've sounded. Before I have a chance to correct what I've said, he's already jumped on it. His eyes languidly rake over me, and I shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

"Oh, I'm sure your _merchandise _is absolutely delectable, Bella."

.

.

.

"Alright, so the guest list has been finalized."

"Uh huh." I answer, not really paying him much attention as I jot down a few ideas for the restaurant.

"But I think it might be a good idea if you'd reconsider inviting some of your colleagues. This Cullen guy is single and new in town. It might prove advantageous for us to provide him with all things entertaining."

"So you want me to pimp out my colleagues? Fabulous." I deadpan.

"_No, _but it wouldn't hurt to introduce him to a few pretty faces, is the point I'm trying to make."

"I'm inviting Alice, and that's it." I huff.

He paces in front of me, rubbing his chin in deep thought. Lord only knows what's going through his mind right now.

"Alice is pretty cute." He looks at me speculatively. "But I was thinking of someone more along the lines of Rosanna or even Tanya. They seem more his speed."

I shudder to think what that actually means and decide not to debate this with him any further. I'd hardly call my relationship with Tanya or Rosanna friendly enough for me to feel comfortable about inviting them into my home. I will definitely _not _be doing that. Let this guy make his own love connection. The initial goal was to have a party in the hope of getting him to sign on with Devex and to advance my restaurant plans. James is taking this too personally, and I'm quite baffled by how consumed he's become with landing the illustrious Edward Cullen as a client.

"We have a little less than a week and a half. Have you decided on the menu yet?"

"I have a general idea of what I'm going to prepare. I'm still debating on dessert."

"I was thinking we could serve two options for dessert. Your tiramisu is delicious, but I'm not sure what else you could serve."

"I'll figure it out. No worries." I flash him a reassuring, confident smile.

"Good, and I trust you completely, babe." He kisses my forehead before announcing he has to head into the office.

Normally, I would be questioning why he's leaving for work at this odd hour of the day, but my preoccupation with my own plans are overriding my instincts.

I continue jotting down ideas I have that I want to run by Ned. That's when I realize that I haven't issued him the check for the space yet.

I reach for my purse and begin filling out the check and stop when I realize that I don't know his full name. Goodness, I don't even know the man's last name; hell I barely know anything about him at all. I pull out my phone and begin to send him a text, but I feel that we should actually be talking about something like this. I dial his number instead.

"Just the person I wanted to speak with. How are you?" His honey-like voice melts in my ear.

"I'm good. Hey, I was in the middle of writing you a check, and I have no clue what name to write on it….last name that is."

"Masen." He responds as if I've irritated him by asking the question.

"Great. I'll just put the check in the mail or…"

"I have a better idea. Why don't you meet me downtown at ground-zero. I have a guy who's brilliant with architectural design that I want you to meet. You can have a look at his ideas and see if you're interested in using him. You can give me the check then."

I guess there's no harm in meeting with _his_ guy, especially since I hadn't gotten around to seeking out an architect of my own. I feel awkward not discussing any of this with James, even if he seems disinterested in it all, but time is of the essence. Having gotten this far with my plans, I don't want to put things off any longer.

"I can meet with you and the architect in about an hour. Is that alright?"

"Perfect. I'll see you then."

.

.

.

I look over the floor plans, and I have to say I'm blown away. I can hardly believe that my little 'hole in the wall' can be turned into the vision I see laid out before me. Ned's guy has drawn up an extremely magnificent and enticing concept of how he sees the restaurant, and a lot of his ideas surprisingly coincide with mine. The financial part of this however, is starting to concern me. I know this it's going to take more money than I have and more money than James will be willing to spend. Ned senses my concern and approaches me.

"Is there a problem? I mean if you don't like what Paul has drawn up he can change it. This whole thing was just to give you some inspiration. I'll be happy to go with whatever you like."

"About that, I find it a bit unsettling that you are just accepting my word that I can cook well enough to run an exclusive restaurant and then just leap into a partnership with me."

"Jesus. Not this again."

"Yes, this again; and I have to say, that although I _love_ what Paul has sketched, the entire thing seems like it's going to be a costly. I don't have much money without my husband's contribution."

"So, your husband's not on board with this?"

"No…I mean, he is..."

"Well, which is it, either he is, or he isn't?" He folds his arms and stares at me challengingly.

"Look, I haven't told him about any of this yet, alright?"

His brows rise in surprise, and he looks to be amused by my revelation. "And why not?"

"I'm just waiting for the right moment."

"The _right_ moment? Tell me something, Bella, are you in the habit of keeping secrets from your husband?" He flashes that perfect smile, laced with devilish intent. I'm not exactly sure what he's alluding to, and I'm not going to entertain him with an answer. But he is right about one thing, this entire situation has been kept secret from James, and I intend to rectify that tonight as soon as I return home.

"I'll handle the part about talking to my husband, but I need you to decide on an appropriate time for me to show you my culinary skills. I won't feel we can move forward until I do"

"Alright, since this is such an issue for you…" He pauses, looks around and rubs his faintly stubbled chin. "How about right now?"

"Wha-what? I'm not prepared, and this place is hardly equipped for the task."

"I didn't mean here, obviously." He rolls his eyes for dramatic effect. "We could do it at my place."

Heaven knows I wasn't expecting those words to come out of his mouth, and like almost every encounter with him, he leaves me astounded.

.

.

.

We drive over to his penthouse after I'm convinced I can make a half-decent appetizer with the contents he tells me he has in his refrigerator. I call James from the car, but he doesn't answer. I leave him a voicemail, saying I have something important to discuss with him, and I'll be home in a couple of hours. That should give me just enough time to whip up something, have Ned sample it and be on my way back home.

"No answer?" He glances over to me.

"Um, no. I left him a voicemail." I smile weakly, and he nods.

We pull up in front of the building, and he hands the valet the keys to park his car. We head inside and ride the elevator to the eleventh floor. I'm surprised when he says he bought the entire level and had it designed to suit his tastes. Needless to say I'm pretty impressed as I take in the surroundings.

I follow him as he walks up to the door. He slides in his key and opens it, allowing me to pass through first. As the door softly clicks behind him, the lights flicker on. The place is beautiful; unlike the bachelor pad I'd imagined. It's covered in white wall-to-wall carpeting with the entire décor coordinating in brown and white.

He takes me over to the kitchen at once and shows me the contents of his fridge. He wasn't lying. The only things he has are eggs, milk, a loaf of bread and bottles of wine. I can't believe it. He must spend most of his time dining out. The look on my face must be priceless, because he begins to laugh at me.

"I told you there wasn't much, and I did suggest that we stop at the grocery store to pick up a few things."

"This is fine….I can…." I start rummaging through the drawers and notice that he does have butter and cheese. I set them on the counter along with the eggs, milk and white wine.

I look through the cabinets and grab a few bowls and a deep baking dish. I set them all on the counter and grab some utensils. I'm stunned that he even has those things handy. I guess I shouldn't expect much more from a wealthy, single man.

I begin cracking the eggs, separating the whites and yolks in different bowls.

"Would you happen to have any Parmesan cheese?"

"Umm, let me take a look." He looks inside a few cabinets and then triumphantly presents me with a jar of Parmesan cheese.

_A jar!_

I'm not sure if the voice screaming in my head is mine or Nona's. I nearly cringe at the thought of not using fresh Parmesan and can visualize Nona turning over in her grave. But he did warn me of his limited grocery items, and he is a bachelor, after all. I'll simply have to make do.

I whip the whites quickly and begin grating the cheese.

"Let me guess, you're making an omelet?"

"No."

"Hmm…well,_ now_ I am intrigued. I'll leave you to it. I have a couple of calls to make. I'll be in the other room. Is there anything else you need?"

"I have everything I need, thank you."

"Alright." He disappears into one of the other rooms, and all I can faintly hear, is his voice in the background.

As I preheat the oven, I prepare the baking dish by coating it with grated Parmesan cheese. I warm some milk in one saucepan, while melting butter in another.

I hear the water from his shower turn on, and I check my watch. I've only been here for about fifteen minutes, and I already feel the need to hurry and complete what I came here to accomplish and leave so I can bring James up to speed.

The butter has completely melted, and I look around to see if he has any flour.

_Surely he has to have flour._

I find a practically full container, and I measure out about three tablespoons, whisking it into the pan of butter. Next, I add the milk and whisk that as well. After adding the egg yolks, I sprinkle in the rest of the ingredients; paprika, salt and a little nutmeg. Surprisingly his cabinets are stocked with spices. Go figure.

I finish whipping the egg whites until stiff and add them and the cheese to the mixture before pouring the batter into the dish to bake.

I recall seeing a bar as I entered the suite, and I retrieve the ice bucket and fill it with ice, setting the bottle of wine inside to chill. White wine pairs perfectly with cheese dishes. I've prepared a soufflé, and I hope it turns out well. It's been a while since I've actually made one.

I check my watch again and decide to give James a call while I wait for the soufflé to set. There's a voicemail alert on my phone, and I listen as James tells me he'll be late getting home yet again.

I almost slam the phone down on the counter in anger, but instantly remember the soufflé in the oven. Instead I reach for the wine opener and pop the cork on the bottle, pouring half of a glass. I take a sip as he finally re-emerges, dressed down in dark lounge pants and a t-shirt. His hair is still damp, and his feet are bare. The freshness of his soap delicately assaults my senses. He smells amazing, like the first day of spring when everything is new. He takes a seat at the counter and smiles at me.

"The aroma was beckoning me from the bedroom. It smells delicious."

"Well, I hope it tastes as good as it smells. Do you mind?" I gesture to the glass of wine I've poured.

"Not at all. Enjoy."

"So, I wanted to get this out of the way." He reaches behind him and pulls out a set of papers. He hands me a pen and I read over the documents.

"All you have to do is sign and it we'll be set…partner."

"When exactly did you have these drawn up?" My curiosity is piqued.

"I had my secretary draw up the papers the morning after we talked at the club. Is there a problem?"

I place the pen and papers on the counter and hold up one finger.

"Let's wait until after you've had the soufflé."

"Ah, a soufflé." He places a hand on his firm abdomen and hums with satisfaction. "I knew it was going to be something out of this world."

"You haven't tasted it yet."

"How much longer?"

"Not too much. I have to serve it immediately though, so there's no cool-down period."

His eyes get that twinkle again like a child on Christmas as he says, ""I can't wait to _taste_ it."

.

.

.

My breath hitches as strangled gasps leave my parted mouth; my voice is trapped in my throat. I'm spread out on the counter, legs draped over his shoulders as he kneels before me lapping between my legs, his tongue doing acrobatics that I could never imagine.

_How did I get here; how did we?_ I wonder, as the whimpers that escape my lips turn into full, tumultuous moans of pleasure. I'm too far gone to be embarrassed at my wanton state, but my hand clamps over my mouth when he gently bites down and sucks on the most sensitive part. He hears my muffled cries and reaches up to pull my hand away.

Rising to his feet, he looks me in the eye and shakes his head at me as if I'm being a naughty girl and says. "Don't. I want to hear _every_ sound you make."

I shiver at the tone of his voice, so commanding, yet gentle, smooth like silk. I must look like a frightened kitten to him, shaking like a leaf. I've never done anything like this before, and I'm petrified.

The soufflé is long forgotten as he drops his pants in front of me. My eyes lower to take in his impressive manhood as he strokes himself. He lifts his shirt over his head and stands magnificently naked before me. He steps forward and pulls me into a searing kiss, and I can taste myself on his mouth. For some reason it turns me on, and I thrust my tongue against his greedily. He groans and roughly pulls my shirt apart. His hands massage and knead my breasts until he finally yanks my bra cup down, attaching his lips and suckling.

He tests and teases my entrance to see if I'm ready, and I freeze when I feel him line himself against my opening.

"We can't…I can't…" I stammer, shaking my head fervently.

"Why? You don't have to worry. This is just between you and me." He kisses me again, this time slowly and passionately as he wraps my legs around his torso and lifts me off of the counter. He walks us into the bedroom, his hardness slides against me for the entire trip, creating the most maddening, yet incredible friction.

He lays us down on the bed, and he grinds into me. I break the kiss once again in a panic.

"This is wrong….I….we…." I gently push on his shoulders.

"Shhh." He laces his fingers through mine and raises my hands above my head. "I'm going to take you to another level. I promise I will make you feel like no man ever has. Don't you want that?"

He doesn't wait for a response as he licks and nibbles my bottom lip, all the while still sliding against me. My eyes flutter closed at the sensation as I answer, "yes, I want this."

His hand relaxes, and he releases one of mine to reach for something. He continues kissing me as I hear a familiar tear echo in the room. The noise is subtle, but it sounds loudly in my ears, reminding me of what I'm about to do, the mistake I'm about to make, the life altering decision that will impact my world; my marriage, forever.

I know I should stop this, but as he thrusts powerfully into me over and over, all rational thoughts leave my mind.

* * *

**Thank you for reading and please remember, updates for Falling for Acacia, Boy to Man (companion piece to Falling for Acacia), Cygnet and Lost (companion pieces to Counsel) are posted on our Writesisters website. **

**www . writesistersfiction . com (leave out the spaces and type as one word)  
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	7. Chapter 7, Masked Deception

**Mask'charade Chapter 6, Masked Deception **

**Disclaimer: All Twilight related material is the sole property of the original author. Mask'charade title and plot-line belongs to Chynnadoll.**

**A/N: Thanks to all who have showed interest in Mask'charade. The story is just beginning and I hope you'll continue and enjoy as it unfolds. FoolForEdward edits.**

**BPov**

I enter the house quietly, only to realize that James isn't home. Cookie eases down the stairs to greet me, and I pat her on the head once before making my way up to the bathroom.

I hurriedly strip out of my clothing and turn on the shower, letting the hard, hot spray cleanse me of my deceit. I now fully understand what people mean when they call it the walk of shame.

I crept out of Ned's apartment, with shoes in hand like a coward while he was sleeping, praying that he wouldn't wake.

I still don't understand how it happened. I'd never contemplated being unfaithful to my husband…ever. The strangest thing is that I don't feel the way I think I should. I should feel riddled with guilt, I should be doubled over in this shower, sobbing and pleading with God to forgive me; promising that I'll never do something like this again, but my only thoughts are how I'm going to hide it. I'm disgusted with myself for actually thinking this way.

Tonight's encounter replays in my head like a silent adult movie.

_He pours himself a glass of wine as I retrieve the soufflé from the oven. He asks whether I was able to contact James, and I say no. He murmurs what I think is some kind of jab about my marriage, but I choose to ignore it. Before I have a chance to serve the soufflé, he's behind me, his hands softly sliding down my hips. I'm too stunned to make a move or say word. Even though I know that my first reaction should be to jerk around and blast him for touching me, I can't help but love the way his warm hands feel against my skin. He whispers things in my ear about marriage, about me, that make me angry, but yet I can't deny him. My body trembles when I feel his breath on my neck. I can't bring myself to face him as he explores me more intimately, my traitorous body reacting to his touch almost instantly. He senses that I've succumbed to his seduction and turns me to face him; his eyes are heavy-lidded and mossy green with lust._

I turn off the shower, towel off and slip into a pair of flannel pajamas. They're still new, a Christmas gift from my mother from some year's back that I'd buried at the back of my drawer. I never sleep in anything so concealing, but the sudden paranoia I have that James will be able to uncover my infidelity just by looking at my body causes me to overreact.

I gather my clothing from the bathroom floor and head to the laundry room to wash them. I know _his_ smell is all over them; hell, his scent is still with me, each time I inhale, I smell him.

_God! I've ruined everything now!_

Even after what I've just done I still can't control my selfishness, thinking only of how I've now destroyed things with the restaurant. Despite him assuring me that no one had to know, that it was strictly between us, I obviously can't continue a partnership with this man. James and I sitting around discussing business with him, with the two of us knowing what happened would be the ultimate disrespect to James. I won't do that to him. I have to let this go. I'll find another way to accomplish my dream. Ned is out of the picture.

I jump as I hear the door close, the sound jostling me from my thoughts. He walks in and instantly makes his way to flip through the mail on the coffee table.

"Busy day?"

"Yeah, but I'm glad it's over." He sighs as he opens an envelope.

"Have you eaten? I could make you a quick sandwich or something."

He stops briefly and looks at me across the room.

"Pastrami on whole wheat?"

I smile and rise from the dining table. I collect the items from the fridge, and my feelings start bubbling to the surface, my eyes start to burn as I feel the tears prick the corners of my eyes.

_What have I done?_

"Bella?"

I yelp, startled by his sudden entry into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, babe, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Oh, it's alright." I clench a hand to my chest.

"Babe…are you crying?" He reaches out with a look of concern and brushes the pad of his thumb beneath my eye.

"Um, no…onions." I hold up the false evidence, and he nods.

"Leave those off." He frowns in distaste and grabs a beer from the fridge. I return to the task at hand. I hear him muttering something behind me as he continues reading through the mail.

"Who's Ned?"

I freeze and practically feel the blood drain from my body. "What?"

"Who. Is. Ned? I'm looking at a piece of paper with your handwriting all over it. You wrote 'give check to Ned.' Who is he?"

My chest heaves as a number of plausible lies run through my head. I never imagined that I'd be able to lie so easily. I feel sickened at the thought. I turn to face him.

"He's um…he's who I wanted to talk to you about. Didn't you get my message?"

"Yes, and you said you wanted to talk about _something_ not _someone_." His brow rises questioningly.

"You're right, but he…Ned is a part of the discussion I wanted to have with you."

"Okay, I'm listening." He impatiently perches himself on a stool and waits for me to elaborate.

I take a deep breath and start to tell him everything, and as I'd originally anticipated, he nearly pops a vessel. "You paid this guy fifty thousand dollars without clearing it with me first? What the hell is wrong with you, Bella?"

"There wasn't much time and…and I just wanted that space for my restaurant so badly…"

"Of course!" he throws up his hands and paces the kitchen floor. "That damned restaurant!" he growls.

"Wait, what do you mean, 'that damned restaurant'? It's my dream, and you said that you would help me."

"Help, yes. This looks more to me as if you went off on your own and handled things. Now you're telling me that you've actually formed some partnership with a man whom you hardly know? Where did you meet him, Bella?"

My mouth opens and closes. I know I can't tell him how I met Ned. He'd lose it for sure, and my marriage would be on the fast track to hell.

"Bella, do you hear me talking to you…where did you meet this guy?"

"It was the day I first stumbled upon the location for the restaurant. He was inquiring about the space, and I just…"

"You just couldn't let it go." He snaps. "He's the other buyer, isn't he?"

"Yes." My voice is barely above a whisper.

"This is fucking perfect." He storms out of the kitchen, and I brace myself against the counter, gasping for breath. I feel like I'm having a panic attack. I take deep breaths, trying to regulate my breathing while James continues his rant in the living area. Once I feel I'm calm enough, I quietly walk out to see if I can explain things, but he's not having any of it.

"Call him." He shoves my cell phone at me.

"Wha-what?" My eyes widen in fear.

"You heard me. Call him. Tell him the deal's off. He took complete advantage of you, and you don't even see it."

As he says 'took advantage', a flash of Ned hovering above me with a satisfied grin on his face invades my thoughts.

"I-I can't." I push the phone away.

"The hell you can't. That was _our _money you spent without consulting me, Bella. You will damned well call him and tell him the deal is off and get that check back. Either you do it, or I will." He points purposely at me and slams the door on his way out.

I stand there, rooted to the same spot for minutes. I can't believe this is happening. I've never seen him so upset. God only knows what he'd do if he found out the entire truth.

.

.

.

I nervously wait for Ned to arrive. I'm scared shitless, not only to have to back out of this deal, but to see him after what happened between us. The place is empty and cold. I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself as I peek out behind the news-papered window. I see him approaching the door, and I quickly step away from the window. My nerves are shot to hell and for good reason. He has this way of seeing through me when I'm trying to avoid him. I can't maintain eye contact for too long or this meeting will go a very different way.

He walks in and those green eyes instantly burn right through me. I fidget nervously as he slowly steps toward me.

"You needed to see me urgently? By the way, I loved the soufflé." He grins.

"Um…" I clear my throat, my voice sounds foreign to my own ears. "I just wanted to give you these."

He frowns at the keys in my outstretched hand.

"I have my own set."

"I–I know. Ned, I'm sorry, but I can't do this."

"_Do_ what?"

It's obvious he's not going to accept this easily.

"We can't be partners, and I know I have a lot of nerve asking this, but is it possible for me to have the check back?"

He scoffs and then laughs.

"You want to back out of our partnership,_ and_ you want me to give the check back?"

"If you can't return it, that's fine, but I can't remain in this partnership." My expression doesn't waver. He looks at my hand holding the keys and shoves his own in his pockets. I walk across the room and set them on the bar and make my way to the door.

"Do you make a habit of just cutting and running?" His voice stops me in my tracks, but I don't turn around.

"You're like a frightened little rabbit."

"You don't know what you're talking about." I reach for the doorknob.

"Don't I? I mean you're clearly running out at this very moment…just like you ran out last night. Is this about your husband?"

"Yes." I whirl around. "Yes, it is my husband, and it's troubling to me that you can just be so cavalier. I've lied to him about this whole situation; the restaurant, our partnership; how we met…"

"About the fact that we fucked." He interrupts casually and my mouth falls open at his crudeness.

"Don't ever say that again." I snap.

"Why?" He shrugs and steps closer. "I mean….that _is _what happened, right?"

I blink at him as he advances, stopping close enough so we're mere inches apart.

"We fucked, and I woke up, and you were gone. You got what you wanted and left, just like a thief in the night…at least that's how it looked to me."

I swallow hard. I didn't realize how cruel it must've been for me to just leave without a word. I'm not the kind of person that would do something like that…or I thought I wasn't.

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't think…."

"What…that my feelings would be hurt?"

"But I thought that…I mean…you were in that club…"

"And so were you, and as you said_ 'I'm married_'. He administers air quotes. "Was it all a part of the plan, to trawl through after hours spots and give off that whole _I'm married_ vibe just to get men to chase you?"

"What? _No!"_

_"_…because I know how that whole thing works…." he adds coolly. "You see, a _happily_ married woman wouldn't come to a place like Masquerade, unless she had something to hide or wanted to hide _from_ something…"

I shiver as his finger trails down the valley of my breasts. 

"…hence the name _Masquerade._ You put on a little sexy mask, sit quietly at the bar, pretending to nurse a drink, turning men away one by one as they approach you with your expertly rehearsed line…It's all a game to you, isn't it, Isabella?"

"No….y-you don't know what you're talking about…" I push his hand away and try my best to deliver a convincing tone.

"Sure I do…I mean I get it." His brows rise in mock sincerity as he elaborates.

"Any man with two functioning eyes and common sense would catch on to it, well…not every man, I mean your husband…" He leaves the words hanging in the air with a smug expression. I'm sure his intention is to get a rise out of me, and it's working. My anger is threatening to break through, and I have to fight hard not to slap the sly smirk off of his face.

"Whatever you _think_ you know about me…."

"Oh, I know a lot already. You see, I witnessed the look in your eyes the first night I approached you, and I damned sure read your body language."

"Well you're wrong if you think whatever _vibe_ I was putting out meant I wanted you, or any other man for that matter, to _chase_ me." I scoff angrily.

"Really? Well, correct me if I'm wrong about how passionately you spoke about the dream of opening your own restaurant? Am I wrong that it means everything to you; to honor you grandmother's wish for you, to have something of your own that makes you feel good. Am I wrong about that? Am I wrong in thinking that you purposely inserted yourself into my conversation that night, ready to bargain in any way to get what you wanted?"

"What? That's not…"

"Or am I wrong to assume that your husband is too much of a jackass to support your dreams? What do you think…am I getting warm?"

I gape at him in shock. He has some hell of a nerve, assuming things about my life.

"Bingo, there it is." He points at me.

"You're a smug son of a bitch!"

"Maybe, but I _am_ right, aren't I?"

"You're not _right_ about anything!"

"No? Then tell me something. Why is it that you've kept this from him? Why hasn't he come down here once to participate in any of this? Why haven't I met him? If you were my wife, there would be NO WAY in hell I'd allow you to just jump into a partnership with some stranger you met on the street."

"You know what, you're absolutely right. I'm out of here." I turn to leave, but he pulls me back.

"It's the thrill of the chase, Bella. I like it, and you enjoy it too." He croons softly in my ear.

In mere seconds, he's spun me around, and his lips are on mine, his hand expertly slides up my skirt. I don't pull away, and I can't fathom why.

We stumble back, and my ass roughly slams against the bar. His hands work quickly, removing my panties, and I gasp, finally breaking the kiss.

"My husband…"

"Don't speak of him again. I don't care about him." He pants as he hitches my leg over his forearm and grinds his bulge into me.

I look into his intense eyes, and he's serious.

"_This_ is all I care about." He caresses my cheek and slowly draws me closer into a deep kiss.

.

.

.

_More lies._

I sit in a daze at my desk, thinking of all the lies I've told. I've lied to James about Ned, telling him that I ended the partnership. I even got the check back for good measure. Ned said he didn't need my money; that he would pay for everything relating to the restaurant, but at what cost…to keep our affair going?

I've even lied to Ned, saying I could continue as his partner _and_ continue seeing him, but for how long? How long until James finds out….at the very least about the restaurant?

I bury my head in my hands and lean on the desk.

"I'm in too deep….too deep." I mutter. "God, this is such a mess."

"What are you deep into?"

My head snaps up at the sound of Tanya's voice. She's standing right in front of me, and I pray that I haven't said anything incriminating out loud.

"Could you knock or announce yourself in some way next time."

"I did. You were too busy wallowing to notice." She scowls. "Jill wants to see you."

She walks out after delivering the message, and I blow out a breath in frustration.

I make my way to Jillian's office and lightly tap on the door. She motions for me to enter, and I take a seat in front of her desk.

She drops an opened magazine in front of me and smirks. "Congrats. The pictures look amazing."

_Christ._

"You're going to relentlessly tease me about this, aren't you?"

"Oh you bet! And the rest of the staff as well." She laughs.

"Anyway, I know how sensitive you can be about these things, and I wanted you to see them before anyone else did."

"Thanks, Jillian." She hands me the copy of the magazine, and I turn to leave.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Bella. You took one for the team and looked good doing it. Pat yourself on the back."

I smile weakly and head back to my desk.

.

.

.

I haven't heard from Ned since our last encounter. He hasn't been at the restaurant location or tried to contact me. Maybe it's for the best. Maybe he's gotten bored with the whole thing. Maybe I need to just move on with my life and come up with alternative plans to open my restaurant.

I'm at the Italian market, picking up a few last minute items for the dinner party on Friday night. I've yet to pick up a dress or schedule a hairdresser's appointment with Angel. I decide that I need to get at least one task scratched off of my list and to drive into town to this little dress boutique I'm fond of.

It takes me no time at all to find the perfect dress. I don't usually make a huge fuss over these types of things, but I buy a backup one to be certain. With the right makeup and Angel's expertise, I'll look presentable enough for Friday night.

On my way back, I decide to stop in and check on things at the restaurant. I didn't stop by yesterday, but I know Paul has been in and out, starting the remodeling.

I step inside and set my bags down. I survey the gutted walls and half demolished floors.

"Jeez, this place really couldn't look any worse."

Although I'm more than confident that the outcome will be phenomenal, this process leaves me somewhat wary.

I check my watch and realize I have a little while before I need to be home. I pull out one dress, holding it out in front of me and then the other.

"Definitely the red one."

I whirl around as Ned approaches me from the back.

"Jesus, you scared me. You've been here the entire time?"

"I had to sign-off on a few ideas for Paul. I got here a little while ago." He reaches out and trails his knuckles down the fabric of the dress. The motion stirs something inside of me.

"You've not been in touch." I clear my throat as he continues admiring the dresses, taking the red one and holding it up against me.

"Yeah, I had some work to do at the office. Vineyard business."

"You have a vineyard?"

"Well, where else do you think I would get a wine collection from?" He chuckles lightly and places the dress back in the bag.

I feel foolish after he puts it that way.

"I just meant you never mentioned it."

"I have three actually."

"Wow…that's really impressive." I look off in contemplation.

"What?" He smiles. "What's that look about?"

"Nothing, I just... realize there are things I don't know about you."

"I like to keep a low profile. Have you ever been to Italy? One of my vineyards is in Tuscany."

"I haven't been since I was a kid. My mother is Italian." I explain.

"I noticed." He smirks and stalks me, trapping me against the bar.

"You've noticed?"

"Of course; the dark hair, beautiful, rich brown eyes…olive skin tone…" he says as he trails his nose across my throat, breathing in.

"It's um…" His lips attach to my neck and slowly trail down my shoulder. "It's still a little…"

"A little what?" He begins unbuttoning my blouse with one hand as the other has already made its way into my panties. I bite my lip as his finger starts to draw lazy circles.

"Mysterious….that I don't know much about you." I pant breathlessly.

He laughs menacingly.

"There's nothing wrong with a little mystery, besides there are a _lot_ of things you don't know about me, Isabella."

.

.

.

As I button my shirt and slip on my shoes I feel his stare on me. I turn to see him sitting up in bed watching me with a faint smirk on his face.

"You really are exquisite."

I divert my eyes and continue to dress. Our tryst started out at the restaurant and ended up back at his place due to my uneasiness about being walked in on.

I check my phone and see that I have three back-to-back missed calls from James. I become anxious, wondering why he'd be calling so many times. I stare at my phone, contemplating sending him a text, but think better of it.

_God, I'm becoming so sloppy at this!_

I jump as Ned wraps his arms around me from behind. I can feel every inch of his firm, nude body pressed against me. "Stay the night."

"What? Ned, I can't."

"You can do whatever you want." He gathers my hair to one side and kisses my neck.

"So…home to go and fuck him now?"

I spin around angrily. He looks as if he hasn't said anything wrong.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Don't try and make me feel guilty for going home to my…"

"It's just a simple question."

"It's not a simple question. It's– it's insensitive, and-and rude…God!"

He crosses the room and begins pulling on his pants. "You know, I wonder…how it must be for you to return home to him entirely bathed in my scent. Does he even notice that you look different?"

"Ned… please don't…"

"Each time we make love, something changes about you. It's like you're blossoming, becoming more beautiful than you already are."

I turn away, trying to block out his words and resume smoothing out the front of my skirt. I have to get out of here before James calls again.

"I meant what I said earlier…. when I was taking you from behind." His voice is rough and hot in my ear as I recall the moment he's referring to.

_You have the most beautiful, baby soft hair, Isabella. You should cut it. Your neck and back are exquisite; they should always be visible for everyone to admire._

I tremble, remembering how the rest of it played out. I'm ashamed at how his words sent me spiraling into unbridled lust, turning me into someone I didn't recognize. The thing is, despite feeling terrible for betraying my husband once more, I'm not entirely sure that I won't do it again.

"I have to go." I grab my purse and coat, barely making eye contact or waiting for a response.

.

.

.

Thursday, on my way from work, I head over to the hairdressers. Angel brushes out my hair and begins the normal routine.

"So, what's been going on, girl?"

"Nothing much." I smile as I flip through the latest issue of Italian Vogue.

"This isn't your normal appointment day, anything special happening?"

"Oh, yes, James and I are hosting a dinner party tomorrow, and I need to get fancy."

"Hmph. My invitation must've gotten lost in the mail." She deadpans, and I instantly feel remorseful for not having invited her.

"Oh God, Angel, I'm so sorry. James and I only thought of the idea a couple of weeks ago. I assumed that with the party being on a Friday, that it would clash with your schedule. I know it's one your busiest days. You're more than welcome to come, let me write down my address." I begin digging through my purse for a pen and paper.

"Relax, Bella. I'm just teasing. You're right, I have a full schedule of regulars on Friday that would be tough to rearrange at short notice. So, what sparked the dinner party?"

"James wants to impress a potential client by inviting him to our home for dinner. I'm going to cook and hopefully, I'll have people talking about my food and it could be good for future business. "

I gaze at a photo of one the models in the magazine, admiring her haircut.

"How's that coming along, have you found a place yet?"

"Hmm, oh…um…I have my eye on a few places, but nothing concrete yet. I am, however, moving full speed ahead with my goal."

"Chica, that's amazing news. I can't wait until I'm seated in your place, enjoying your food. Now, let's get this gorgeous hair styled."

"Um, Angel, can we consider something a little different this time?"

"Sure, what did you have in mind?"

I fold back the magazine and hand it to her.

"_This…_ but that would require cutting at least six inches_?"_

"I know."

"Ay, dios mio." She raises a hand to her forehead.

"I want to try something edgy." I turn and look up at her confused expression. "Let's do it. Cut it."

* * *

**End note:**

** Thank you everyone for your well wishes about my little mishap. Falling for Acacia and Boy to Man will be posted on the Writesisters website soon. (wwwdotwritesistersfictiondotcom) Please replace the word dot with the actual icon. **

**Also, I wanted to congratulate my partner, editor and friend Shenda on her latest achievement; Counsel has been rec'd over at The Lemonade Stand! If you haven't started it yet, please give it a try. It's a very entertaining and impeccably written story. ADA Edward Cullen (nicknamed Counsel) is currently working on a case that is targeting the Volturi crime family. The suspense surrounding the nature of Aro Volturi's and Edward's relationship adds a personal, yet more solidified reason for "Counsel" to want to see him brought to justice. Nothing comes without a price though as a friend from his past, Senator Jasper Whitlock and a mystery woman, Isabella Swan becomes tangled up in the prosecution's case.**

**Cygnet: Bella's Story and Lost: Edward's Story; both companion pieces to Counsel can be read on Writesisters website and have been recently updated. (wwwdotwritesistersfictiondotcom) Again, replace the word dot with the normal icon.**


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